Near To You
by singsongsung
Summary: Miles from home and from who they used to be, Peyton Sawyer and Nathan Scott might just find exactly what they gave up looking for.
1. all the ways I loved you

**A/N:** My muse does what it wants to. I know I have a ton going on right now and that I could've (and probably should have) just left the five chapters of this I have written around on my computer...but what fun would that be?

All you need to know for now is that Peyton said "someday", and that was the last time she saw Lucas. It's been six years. I stole Dr. Ethan Cooper and twisted his character a bit because I loved him but nothing ever came of his character, and did basically the same thing with Mia to insert a semi-familiar face into the mix. And the "medical" joke Ethan makes as one of his first lines is not a product of my own mind, but actually something one of my teachers said to another, which is honestly not as weird as it seems.

Reviews are love. :)

**Near To You**

{_'cause near to you, I am healing, but it's taking so long_}

Chapter One: _but you didn't know all the ways I loved you_

There is nothing in the world like September third on the campus of an east coast prep school. It's not amazing, not breathtaking, not life-altering – it just feels good. It's autumn leaves in deep, dark oranges and heavy reds blending together with pale green grass and bright blue skies, making the world that much prettier. It's leaves crunching beneath boots on sidewalks and crisp air that heightens the senses. It's limos circling smooth streets, doors swinging open to reveal perfectly groomed teens. It's girls giggling and flipping their hair, guys laughing and kicking soccer balls around. It's a lot of hugging, both hellos and goodbyes.

It's _happiness_, even though there's a little bit of separation anxiety and dread of the school year mixed in.

And as much as Peyton Sawyer wanted to hate it, she just couldn't.

The world around her was happy, and as odd as it felt at times, so was she. Or at least, she was very close to getting there. She was happy with the way she felt, the small smile she couldn't help but allow to play on her lips. She was happy with the way she looked, curls loose and shoulder length, wearing black pants and a flow-y shirt, feeling both feminine and professional. She finally felt the familiar rush, the thought that maybe she could take on the world; maybe she could even beat it.

"_Peyton!_" she heard a high-pitched voice squeal excitedly, and a blur of black hair and long arms adorned my bracelets rushed toward her, engulfing her in a hug.

She was momentarily taken back, but relaxed happily into the embrace after a moment, returning it wholeheartedly before she let the girl go. "Hey, Mia," she said softly, lifting her eyebrows. "You look great."

The younger girl shrugged blithely. "I have a good feeling about this year. Don't you?"

"I'm sure it'll be awesome for you," Peyton replied neutrally, doing her best to subtly avoid the question. Optimism wasn't her natural state of mind.

Mia wasn't stupid, and she caught that, rolling her eyes. "I'm _sure_ too," she said with emphasis, grinning brightly. She glanced over her shoulder at a group of friends and said, "I have to go, but I'm really glad to see you again."

Peyton watched her rush off, feeling a little amused. Mia struck her as a well-balanced mixture of herself and her best friend, Brooke – it was impossible not to love her for that reason. She felt a pang in her chest as she thought of the bubbly brunette she'd always called a sister. It had been too long since they'd talked, _much_ too long since they'd seen each other.

"Hello, Miss Sawyer."

She whirled around at the sound of the deep voice with a trace of a Southern accent and smiled warmly. "Mr. Ambrose, hi."

He lifted his eyebrows calmly. "Do I have to ask you again to call me Charlie?"

She scrunched up her nose and shook her head. It was just too weird. No matter her status, she was his junior by at least thirty years, if not more, and she just didn't feel right calling him by his first name. "No can do, sorry," she said, shooting him her sweetest, most bashful grin.

He reached out and ruffled her hair. Even though she's too old and they're in public and she put _work_ into those curls, she couldn't get mad, because it's such a fatherly gesture.

"How was your summer?" he asked warmly.

She shrugged, smiling wanly. "Fine. A little…lonely."

His smile was full of understanding. "You've got to get yourself a fella, darlin'. There are a million who'd kill for you, I'm sure."

Peyton let out a breathy laugh, keeping the sarcasm out of her voice and trying to sound hopeful as she said, thinly, "Someday."

He grinned at her before he walked off, responding to another teacher, who'd called him over.

She sighed as she watched a group of girls squeal as they all tried to hug one another at once, ending up as a mass of tangled limbs. She'd been a loner for much of her life, fiercely independent. Every person she got close to was another risk, another potential heartache. As much as she adored the resigned-yet-giddy buzz that ran in strong currents through the slightly chilled air, charging the campus' atmosphere, she never felt as though it truly reached her. She was on the outside looking in.

The day stretched out as she made her way around campus. It was a never-ending hub of activity; she was constantly waving and stopping to exchange pleasantries. Even as the sun began its descent, cars kept pulling up and kids kept piling out.

Peyton shielded her eyes from the glare of the setting sun as she watched a sixteen-year-old girl launch herself out of a black car and into the arms of her boyfriend. Peyton felt a twinge in her chest she was determined to ignore, and she knew she was done. It was time to go back to the same room and read the same book while she listened the same music, hiding in the same way that she always had.

Her demons would still be there tomorrow. The only difference was that she'd be ready to face them.

{x}

"G'morning, darlin'," Mr. Ambrose greeted her as she strode through the hallway the next morning, her confidence refreshed as she walked in her kitten heels and deep green dress. She winked in reply before stepping into a room, totally prepared for her first class: Visual Arts 11. She'd undergone a change, she knew that – it had almost been a purposeful transformation, out of self-preservation. She was different than how she had been, both in appearance and attitude, but she chose to believe it was for the better.

She slipped the strap of her bag over her head and let it fall to the floor beside her desk. She shook her curls out of her face and took a deep breath. "Okay, people; your attention, please."

Nineteen fresh-faced teenagers turned obediently to face her, their eyes curious but not hostile. She smiled.

"Welcome to VA-11," she greeted them, glancing down at her attendance list. "I hope this class is everything you hoped for. I'm Peyton Sawyer. You can call me Peyton, or Miss Sawyer. I'll answer to virtually anything." She cracked a grin. "_Virtually_ being the key word. You've got to give me some respect. Everyone clear on that?"

One hand inched into the air. She regarded the boy it belonged to warily, arching an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"I'm clear on it, Miss Sawyer," he said hurriedly. "I was just wondering…are you _the_ Peyton Sawyer?"

She sucked in some air. There it was, the inevitable, unavoidable question. She had to tell the truth. Even if she lied it would become obvious to them, in some way, eventually. She chose honesty and bravely replied: "Yes. I am."

Jaws dropped and eyes widened; a whisper coursed through the room, carrying the one name she really didn't want to hear. She sighed inwardly. That damn book was going to haunt her forever. She abandoned her attendance list for the moment. These kids needed some distraction. She grabbed a pile of thick sketchbooks, with anonymous black covers hiding creamy white paper, and held them up. "Who wants to draw?"

{x}

In the staff room, during her lunch break, she flopped onto a couch on her back, propping her feet up on the arm of the soda. She folded her arms over her face and groaned.

"Uh-_oh_," a voice sing-songed as footsteps approached her. She lowered her arms to see Ethan Cooper moving toward her. She knew his story – he'd attended this school and was now back, teaching Biology and pre-med prep classes. Peyton gave him a scathing glare he didn't entirely deserve, but he was undeterred as he cheerfully commented, "Better check for a pulse."

She sighed impatiently as he gently grasped her wrist. After waiting for a moment, making a big show of consulting his watch, he released her hand and stated, "Nothing." He smirked. "Okay, take your clothes off: full body examination."

She laughed in spite of herself, sitting up so that he had room to join her.

"Tough morning?"

Peyton shrugged. "Sometimes I just wish I was known for something other than being a character in a book."

Ethan's smirk stayed in place. "You _could_ be known as the hot teacher who's dating the even hotter teacher."

Rolling her eyes, she retorted, "And who would that be?"

"You wound me."

"You wish," she huffed, referring to his earlier comment.

"I do," he agreed seriously.

She let her eyes flutter closed and rubbed her forehead wearily. "Ethan, today is not the day."

"Y'know, Peyton," he mused. "One day, you're gonna have to let someone try to deal that broken heart of yours."

She rolled her eyes yet again and grumbled, "Thanks for the daily dose of philosophy."

"Peyton."

"It'd be easier if I wasn't reminded of it _all the time_," she murmured, allowing herself a moment of vulnerability. She sighed and plastered on a smile. "I have class."

"Let me buy you coffee after," he said quietly, and she saw the sympathy in his eyes.

"I have practice," she shot back, glad to be able to provide a legitimate excuse.

Ethan sat back, stretching his arms out. "One day, Peyton Sawyer."

She shook her head and smiled fondly. He was a really good guy at heart, but he was also incorrigible. "If you say so."

"Someday," he insisted, and her heart cracked just a little bit more at the sound of the word that had come to represent all she'd lost.

{x}

"If you read _half_ of chapter one tonight I'll be happy!" Peyton called loudly as her last period Art History class trekked out of the classroom, already babbling about their evening plans.

Ethan appeared in her doorway as the last of her students meandered into the hallway. She perched on the edge of her desk and placed a hand over her heart, pretending to swoon. "Safety goggles," she said breathlessly. "You're playing dirty; you know how those get to me."

He rolled his eyes, slipped off the plastic glasses, and tucked them into the pocket of his lab coat. "Coffee offer still stands."

"And I _still_ have practice."

"You're not going to get rid of me this easily, you know."

"Oh, believe me, I do," she laughed. "I've only been trying for the past two years."

"I'll see you later, gorgeous," he sighed, and gave her a quick wave before he got lost in the hallway crowds again.

She shook her head, trying not to smile, as she turned back around and gathered a couple books off of her desk, placing them in her bag. She knew she'd attracted attention when she came here. Her name was well known even if she herself wasn't. Most of the faculty was older and, while kind to her, kept their distance, watching over her and her progress from afar. (guy) had always been kind to her, adopting a fatherly role toward a girl who'd never had a lot of parental attention, and keeping an eye on her while the junior and senior boys gossiped about her in the halls. Ethan was the only faculty member close to her age. He'd been very serious and a bit shy at first, but as they grew closer, she came to realize that he'd made her his conquest. She loved him and she valued his friendship more than she ever let on, but she wished he'd get over her already.

It was obvious not only to Ethan, but to her colleagues and probably half of the student body, that she was still very much hung up on one man.

{x}

"Questions? Comments? Concerns?"

She looked at each of the faces of the girls, aged fourteen to eighteen, who sat in front of her. Most of them looked pleasant enough, but she caught some attitude on a couple faces. That would be great to deal with.

One of the younger girls raised her hands and Peyton smiled. She was always trying to recruit freshmen for the squad, but they were often intimidated. "Go ahead," she said.

"I was just wondering…" she began nervously, "are you Peyton Sawyer, like…_Peyton Sawyer_?"

Mia, a reluctant cheerleader just like Peyton had always been, caught the disgruntled look that passed over their coach's face and stifled her laughter. Peyton shot her a glare.

"Yeah," she said simply, as patiently as she could. "I am." She smiled hopefully again, crossing one leg over the other. "Anyone else?"

Nothing. A sea of blank, bored faces stared back at her, with the exception of Mia's smirk. Peyton sighed. "Okay. Well, tryouts begin, as I said, on Thursday. You know what you need to have prepared, you know what grades you need to keep up to stay on the squad. And everything's still open, so if you have friends who are interested, make sure to bring them along. And good luck!"

They all got up after the gymnasium floor and wandered out the doors. Peyton shot Mia a playfully annoyed look as she slipped by, still laughing to herself.

She had to admit, of all the way she'd imagined her life could potentially turn out, teaching art classes and coaching cheerleading at a high-class, exclusive prep school really never had been a plausible option. And yet, here she was.

She picked up her bag and her thick binder of cheerleading-related routines, rules, and more. She walked into her office at the back of the gym and turned on the light. It looked just like she'd left it last year. She set the binder down on the desk and frowned. She would just leave it for now.

When she turned around, Ethan was standing in the doorway, and she jumped nearly a foot off the ground. She glowered at him as she placed a hand over her wildly pounding heart. It wasn't his fault. People weren't obliged to remember that she'd once had a stalker.

"Way to scare a girl," she grouched.

"Practice is over," he replied, ignoring her annoyance. "At _least_ let me buy you dinner."

She laughed lightly. "Okay. Fine. I'll meet you at your car in…twenty minutes? I'm supposed to close up the gym."

"Sure," he said, perfectly at ease now that she'd finally said yes to him. He let his hand hover over the small of the back as he leaned in to kiss her cheek before disappearing back out the door.

Part of her wanted to call after him. This wasn't the start of anything, and it only seemed fair to let him know that. But several things stopped her, the first of which was that she was lonely. Teenagers and fellow teachers floated in and out of her life every day at a constant rate – she very rarely had any time to herself. She was occupied, her mind and her body was busy, she didn't have much time to think. But after school hours, on days when there wasn't cheerleader practice in particular, she was all by herself. All of the older faculty and staff went home to their spouses and kids and pets. She went home to empty rooms decorated with things that only served to remind her of all the people she'd left behind.

And, she had to admit to herself that in some strange way, she _wanted_ things to work with Ethan. He clearly liked her, and it would be so perfectly easy to let herself date, fall in love with, and marry the guy. They already both lived in the same place. They had stable jobs. He was never boring. He liked music. He was great with kids.

But she knew as well as anyone that you can't always get what you want. She could want for things to work with Ethan, but that didn't mean that thing _should_ have worked. She'd found and lost the person things _should_ have worked with.

So she flicked off the overhead light in her office, locked the door behind her, and prepped herself to give him yet another _you know we can only be friend, right?_ lecture.

She stepped out to turn the lights off and lock up the gym doors, and it was then that she noticed that someone was there, at the opposite end of the expansive room, shooting hoops in the low lighting and moving in ways that struck her as oddly familiar.

Peyton frowned. There were two possibilities. Either this was a kid who earnestly wanted a little extra practice time to improve his game, in which case he'd probably leave cooperatively if Peyton promised to talk to the coach about it. Or, this was some snobby jock who thought he was just _so cool_ for sneaking into the gym after hours behind basketball tryouts had even begun, and she'd have to argue it out. She just wasn't in the mood.

She paced toward him. Either he didn't hear the click of her heels against the hardwood floor, or he chose to ignore her. When she was about five feet away, she planted her hands on her hips and called, "Hey! You're not supposed to be in here right now."

He caught his rebound smoothly as it bounced off the background and turned to face her. There was a split second in which she thought she was going to faint. He wasn't a boy; he was a man, and one she knew very well. His eyes, his mouth, the set of his chin, the way he carried himself – all of these things were painfully familiar to her. She hadn't really expected to see him again, at least not anytime soon. And of all the places in the world, she'd never expected to see him _here_.

She smiled, amazement, disbelief and happiness merging together to create a shy sense of some kind of elation. He was looking back at her with the same kind of appreciative astonishment as he propped the basketball against his hip, resting his arm over it casually and confidently. He smirked, realizing that she was speechless, a cocky smirk forming on those lips that she knew so well as his eyes traced up her body before landing steadily on her face, locking with her green orbs.

"Hey, Sawyer."


	2. the beginning after the end

**Near to You**

{_'cause near to you, I am healing, but it's taking so long_}

Chapter Two: _the beginning after the end_

It took her a moment to regain the power of speech. "Nathan!" she cried when she finally did. "Oh my God, hi; what're you doing here?!"

"What am I doing here? What are _you_ doing here?" he spluttered, laughing through his words. "Get over here and give me a hug!"

She laughed as well, in the same delighted way, and rushed forward to throw her arms around him. He had filled out a little more since high school, but his arms still felt the same as they closed around her securely. He smelled the same, too, she realized as she buried her face in the fabric of his shirt. "It's so good to see you," she muttered, clinging to him for a moment. As she pulled back, she remarked, "You look _good_."

He grinned down at her. "And _you_ look amazing. Really, Peyton…_damn_." He spoke teasingly, but there was a seriousness in the undertone of his words.

Blood rose to her cheeks and her chest, all the skin exposed by her strapless dress turned red. "Thanks," she replied, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that his arms were still locked loosely around her waist. "Seriously, Nathan…how are you here?"

He held out both arms, gesturing to the gym as a whole. "I'm the new basketball coach. And you?" He was just as eager to hear her story as she was to hear his.

"I've been teaching here for two years. And I'm coaching cheerleading."

"_You_ tell people how to be _cheerful_?"

"Shut up!" she protested. She was never going to live that down.

"Hey, Peyton, are you coming?" Ethan stepped into the gym, pausing when he saw her standing so close to Nathan. "Uh…hi," he said uncertainly.

"Hi," Nathan replied, taking the interrupting in stride. He walked over, extending his hand confidently. "I'm Nathan Scott. The new basketball coach."

"Ethan Cooper. Do you two, uh…know each other?"

"Old friends," Peyton explained. "Same hometown."

"And you dated?" He was asking for clarification and clearly jealous.

Nathan chuckled in sort of a proud way. "Is it that obvious?"

"Back in high school. Way back," Peyton added, shooting Nathan a warning glance.

Ethan nodded. "Listen, we're kind of getting late…"

"Right," she said softly. "We should get going."

"Don't let me keep you," Nathan added, keeping his tone neutral and friendly, but she caught a flicker of something else in his eyes. Disappointment? It couldn't be. "Listen, Peyt, how about you find me tomorrow? I'd love to…"

"Yeah," she agreed before he could even finish. "Definitely." She wanted to hug him again, but that would just be cruel, considering the expression Ethan was already wearing. "Bye," she added lamely.

{x}

"So, wasn't he, uh…a big time basketball star?"

"Yes. He was in an accident."

"But…I thought I heard somewhere that he was married."

"Divorced, now."

"Didn't he –"

"Ethan," Peyton interjected as kindly as she could. "We've been here for nearly an hour and all we've talked about is Nathan Scott. I don't know what you had in mind for tonight, but I really doubt this was it."

Ethan sighed and wiped his sweaty palms on the napkins that rested on his lap. "Sorry." He cleared his throat. "I guess I want to know what his being here means for…you and me."

"Ethan," she sighed.

"Right," he muttered. "You and I are just friends."

"_Really_ good friends," she insisted, hating herself for using such predictable lines for letting someone down easy. "And for the record, Ethan, that's all Nathan and I are, too."

He stared at his plate and sighed. She could tell how much he disliked the weakness he was currently showing. "Is there a reason?" he asked hoarsely. "A reason I can't be the guy?" He was all earnestness and solemn compassion, just like he'd been when they first met.

Peyton's grip on her fork tightened. "Not a good one," she admitted.

{x}

She was standing on the front step of Nathan's faculty house the next morning only minutes after seven o'clock, two cups of coffee clutched in her hands a box of donuts in the bag looped loosely around her thin wrist. She hadn't been able to sleep much over the previous night. She was restless from the moment Ethan walked her to her door and disappeared into the night, hanging his head.

Nathan's eyes were bleary when he opened the door, blinking out at her in confusion, dressed only in his boxers. "You're early," he said, stating the obvious.

Her mouth had suddenly gone dry. She swallowed hard and offered, "Sorry?"

He grinned as if he couldn't help it. "Come on in."

"Classes start in a little over an hour, you know," she informed him, holding out one of the coffee cups after he closed the door behind her.

He accepted it and took a drink. "For you, maybe," he laughed. "But my early morning practices don't start until I actually pick my team."

She'd forgotten that. She was suddenly shocked by her own eagerness to see him, and searched the room for a distraction, a new source of conversation. She found herself giggling nervously. "I see you're doing the minimalist thing," she said dryly.

His living room featured a bed, a television resting on the floor, several pairs of sneakers, and an open bag of chips.

"Yeah…the movers messed up. The rest of my stuff should be here soon."

"Good. But until then, where do you suggest we eat the food I oh-so-kindly brought you?"

He shrugged and smirked. "We've got the bed."

Peyton rolled her eyes, ignoring the way her stomach flipped. "This reminds me of something," she teased, sitting comfortably on the side of the bed he hadn't slept on. "Talk to me," she requested as she opened the bag of donuts. "Tell me what brought you out here."

Nathan indulged her: "Probably the same things that brought _you_ out here. I needed a change and this was a good opportunity. Tree Hill is home, but it gets…hard there, sometimes."

"You and Haley…?" she pried.

He shrugged, looking a bit more serious. "I really hurt her, with the ways I acted after the accident. She has such a good heart, though. I think she's forgiven me. Sometimes it seems like she'd even consider…getting back together. But I don't know. I think that in the end, things worked out…for the best. It's all about Jamie right now."

Peyton smiled softly, sympathetically. "You must miss him so much."

"I do. Yeah. But we're talking on the phone twice a week, and I get him on the holidays." His smile reappeared. "What about you, Sawyer?"

"What _about_ me?"

His tone lost some of its mirth. "Have you talked to Luke lately?"

She averted her eyes. "Nope," she said tightly.

"Well…uh…you and that guy…"

"Ethan," she supplied. "We're friends."

He cracked a grin. "He's completely in love with you."

"Don't say that!" she protested, grimacing. "I feel horrible about it. No matter what I say or do I always feel a little like I'm leading him on."

"It's not your fault," Nathan reasoned. "Not how he feels or how you feel. The heart wants what it wants."

She groaned. On most days, she thought that Haley had changed Nathan for the better, but when he dropped lines like that she had to disagree with herself. "That's such a _line_."

There was a knowing quality to that smile of his as he looked deep into her eyes. "Yeah," he agreed easily. "But it's a line for a _reason_."

{x}

She hated that she had to force her students to unlearn. They spent years with teacher that didn't have much training, learning the "right" ways to draw trees and houses and the human face. She found herself having to coax creativity out of them.

At least most of them were eager. They handed in their watercolour paintings at the end of the period. There were a few confident expressions, but most of the ninth graders gazed at her shyly as they filed out of the room. A couple hung back, looking a little apprehensive.

"What's up, girls?" she asked kindly as she sat down behind her desk.

"Can I ask you something?" one of them requested.

"Sure."

"Did you _really_ have a psycho stalker fake brother?"

She stifled her sigh and reminded herself to keep smiling. "Unfortunately, every bit of that is true."

The other girl piped up, clearly under the impression that her question was much more important. "Why aren't you married to Lucas?"

Her jaw clenched, but before she could reply, a deep voice interjected: "Touchy subject, girls. I'd watch out – she learned a vicious right hook when she was fighting off that psycho stalker fake brother."

"Nate!" she hissed in a scolding tone as she watched her students' eyes widen. "He's joking," she added to them.

"Yeah, you're right," he agreed. "I totally taught you that right hook."

"Nathan," she huffed, but before either of them could say another word, the girls rushed out of the room, their cheeks red.

Peyton pushed her chair back and fixed her gaze on him, trying to hide her smile. "I forgot you were _Nathan Scott_," she said, playfully batting her eyelashes. "It's nice that there's finally someone else _famous_ on campus."

He leaned against the doorframe. "Glad to be of service."

She let herself smile openly. "How was your day?"

"Good. Yours?"

"Fine. Kinda tiring."

"Too bad."

She eyed him suspiciously, expecting some kind of innuendo in the next words he spoke. "And why's that?"

"All my stuff arrived this afternoon. I was hoping you'd come help me unpack. I'll spring for pizza," he tempted her, and in that moment she felt fifteen years old again.

"Sounds perfect," she admitted.

{x}

"Nathan! Stop eating and come help me!" she yelled down the staircase, struggling not to laugh.

"I'm almost done!" he insisted, words a bit garbled from the food in his mouth.

"Bottomless pit," she muttered as she turned back to a box labeled _miscellaneous_, as many of his boxes were. He'd never been very organized. She liked that she knew that about him.

The box contained a myriad of items, everything from kitchen cutlery to DVDs. Near the bottom, she found a photo album; Jamie grinned out at her from every page. Haley, she noticed, was entirely absent. Peyton understood that. She was healing at the same slow, agonizing rate.

She set aside the album and her breath caught in her throat when she saw what was resting on the bottom of the box.

It was a framed photograph of two people she hardly recognized. She and Nathan, fifteen years old and at the beach. They looked happy to a degree she couldn't remember feeling in recent years. God, she looked so at peace and in love, the sun flowing off her longer, tighter curls as she leaned back into Nathan's arms. It had been one of the best days of their relationship, maybe even one of the best days of her youth. She remembered the extreme she felt, the way every inch of her body seemed to heat up as he kissed her, the contrast of the cool shock of the waves crashing against her skin.

"Whatcha got there?" Nathan asked casually, interrupting her trip down memory lane. He reached around her on both sides, bracing his weight on the dresser she stood in front of as he peered over her shoulder.

She held the photograph up. "I can't believe you still have this." She twisted around in the enclosed space he'd created with his arms to get a better look at his face.

"Yeah…" he said softly, looking a little embarrassed. "It's been with me every move I've made since I was sixteen. It'd be weird to go somewhere without it." He plucked it from her hands and placed it in the middle of the flat surface above the dresser. "There," he said grandly, stepping back to admire his handiwork. He smirked at her. "What do you think?

She rolled her eyes at his antics. "I think you need to hire an interior decorator. "

"Hey!" he protested, scowling as though she'd deeply offended him. "I can decorate," he added lamely.

"Whatever you need to tell yourself," she said condescendingly, sticking her tongue out playfully as she brushed past him and opened a couple more boxes. She sighed as she examined the contents. "Do you have _any_ music?"

"Somewhere…"

She perched on the edge of his bed, now in the bedroom where it belonged, as she watched him search through his boxes. He was different but also the same. Just like she was.

"Here we go," he announced, lifting a box. He walked over and set it down on the mattress at her side. She stood up just as he moved to sit down, and they found themselves tripping over each other's feet. After a moment of awkward limbo in which they both tried to recover, Peyton fell backwards onto the bed, taking him with her.

They both had the wind knocked out of them, and she found herself breathless as she peeked up at him through her eyelashes. She let out a laugh that was more of a sigh. "Well, _this_ is comfortable." Sarcasm was always her first defense mechanism, and she felt vulnerable.

"The bitch is back," Nathan commented teasingly as he hovered over her, though his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. She batted weakly at his chest in an attempt to reprimand him.

"I missed you," he told her, sounding as though he was just realizing it. In a rare outpouring of emotion, he continued, thoughtfully, "I miss who I am around you."

She nodded, keeping her eyes locked with his for a moment to show that she understood, that she felt the same way. Then she broke eye contact and cleared her throat. "I, um…I should go."

His disappointment was easy to see as he stood up and offered her his hands. "Already?"

She got up on her own. "Yeah, I have…lesson plans to make. But I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" she asked as she inched toward the door.

"Yeah, sure," he said, a bit uncertainly. "I could walk you back…"

"I'm a big girl," she assured him, losing a bit of her hurriedness, touched by his concern. "Bye," she added with finality before she slipped out of his room and rushed down the stairs and out the door.

Her faculty house was barely a block away, but she had to stop and catch her breath halfway there, feeling strangely off balance. It wasn't lost on her that Nathan had zero photographs of his ex-wife, the supposed love of his life, anywhere in his house. It wasn't lost on her that he had a picture of _her_, of the two of _them_, sitting in the middle of his dresser like it belonged there.


	3. that that don't kill me

**Near to You**

{_'cause near to you, I am healing, but it's taking so long}_

Chapter Three: _that that don't kill me can only make me stronger_

"Stop," Peyton said sternly.

Ethan jumped and shot her a guilty look. "What?" he asked weakly. "I need a…soccer ball. For a…an experiment."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "So go _get_ it."

He groaned. "Okay, _fine_. You caught me spying."

"You know something, E.?" she asked kindly. "Your brain is way better."

"Thanks," he said warmly. "But is it _wrong_ that I'm intimidated by _that_?" he demanded as Nathan smoothly dunked the basketball.

She touched his shoulder lightly. "That quiet way you wear your confidence has always been you sexiest quality. Now can you please promise me you'll stop this? It's weird."

He looked much more like himself after her compliment. "You have my word." He paused before asking, "So, uh…what's up between the two of you?"

Peyton sighed. She'd been avoiding Nathan for almost two days. "Weird is a pretty good word for that, too."

Ethan's concern was selfless. "Yeah? Are you guys…"

She smiled slightly. "We're friends. It's just…it's been a while." She didn't want to reveal too much, especially not to Ethan. She kissed his cheek in a purely friendly fashion. "I'll see you later, okay?"

Nathan finished lecturing his potential team members, sending them off to the locker room with words that were both threatening and encouraging all at once.

"Hey, superstar," Peyton called playfully, making sure to keep the atmosphere light.

Nathan turned at the sound of her voice and grinned. "Hey back!"

One of the teenagers whistled. Peyton's right eyebrow flew upward as she scowled. She could have ignored it, but she also had words ready. However, she didn't have to choose. Nathan beat her to it. "Hey, watch it," he snapped dangerously.

Peyton's other eyebrow rose as well.

"Hi, Miss Sawyer," one of the younger boys greeted her politely as he walked past. She rewarded him with a smile.

"I'm sorry," Nathan said the moment all the boys were gone. "If I knew who that was…"

"Nate," she said gently, touching his chest lightly to get his attention. A smile played on her lips. "You _were_ that guy."

He winced as he calmed down. "Ouch."

"I'm sorry. It's a fact."

Nathan sighed. "So, I, uh…I haven't seen you for a couple days."

She dropped her hand and looked downward.

His gaze was heavy and his was serious. "Did I do something?"

"No!" she said hurriedly, looking up to meet his worried eyes. She knew that this conversation was a possibility, but she hadn't expected to be having it so soon. "Things have always been so relaxed with us. When we're not fighting," she amended, and they both capitalized on the opportunity to smile briefly. "Things for us are easy, Nathan. And I want them to stay that way with us."

He nodded, touching her elbow lightly. "Easy sounds good."

{x}

"You cannot survive on…energy drinks," Peyton lectured him, wrinkling her nose as she examined the contents of his grocery cart.

"Like your diet's any better!" Nathan protested playfully. "The tortured artist. You must drink black coffee and eat…grapefruit, or something."

"Grapefruit?" she laughed, raising her eyebrows.

"Or something," he added once again.

Peyton rolled her eyes. "I eat well, thank you very much. Way better than you do, apparently."

"Are you trying to tell me that you cook?"

"Occasionally," she replied cautiously, unsure of where he planned on taking his comment.

"And it _tastes_ good?"

"Dude, shut up already!" she cried, inching the cart dangerously close to his toes.

He jumped out of the way agilely. "C'mon, Peyton, don't try to fool me. I know you. You hardly ever cooked when your dad was away, and when you did, it sucked. You ate at my house most of the time, remember?"

It was all the truth, she couldn't deny that much. "Yeah," she said with a fond smile, "I remember."

Nathan grinned back. "So what do you _allegedly_ cook?"

"Jerk," she fumed. "Why don't you come over one of these days? I'll wow you with my newly acquired skills in the kitchen."

He paused with his hand resting on the bottle of some electrolyte-charged sports drink, which was, at least, healthier than those caffeine-packed energy drinks. "Really?"

Her eyes darted away from the shocked look on his face. "Well…yeah." She wasn't crossing any lines, she was certain of that. People with easy, casual friendships ate together all the time. "You'll need it anyway, loser," she added in a stronger voice. "Considering all the crap you're buying."

Nathan made a familiar goofy face, but his eyes were shimmering with something unfamiliar. "I've got to start working my potential team tonight, but…soon?"

Peyton nodded, steering the cart out of the aisle and toward the vegetables before he could protest. "Sure. Soon."

{x}

Peyton ran her hand through her curls as she studied the B- written on the comment sheet she'd paper-clipped to an assignment. She frowned at it for a moment before switching it to a B+ with a small stroke of her pen. She never knew how lenient to be. She loved the subject she taught, but it was very difficult to mark.

She considered spending a little more time analyzing her won marking rubric, but when she squinted at the clock she saw that it was past nine. She needed to get home, put on some quiet music, eat something, and get some sleep. She was probably the only teacher still holed up in a classroom.

She threw the marked assignments into a drawer along with her lesson plans for the next day. After locking it, she stood up and stretched out her arms before she shouldered her bag, and glanced back quickly to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything. Flicking off the lights, she stepped out of the door and into the equally dark hallway.

A group of three twelfth-grade boys, rowdy and decked out in varsity jackets, walked toward her, talking loudly. She groaned internally, standing arms akimbo as she faced them. "What're you guys doing here so late?" she demanded authoritatively, trying not to sound too annoyed.

"Practice," one of them answered. "We're not even on the team yet, and already _Coach_ is working us late." He sneered when he spoke Nathan's job title, and her frustration mounted. She wanted to go home.

"Okay, well, get back to your dorms."

Another boy stepped forward. "Aw, but I was hoping to talk tothe great Peyton Sawyer."

She gritted her teeth, ignoring him. "It's past curfew. Move it."

He ignored her right back, moving closer. "You know, I feel like I already _know_ so much about you."

"How nice for you," she bit out sarcastically, stepping back. "Now get to your rooms before you land yourselves two weeks of detention."

"Detention?" another asked. "Will _you_ be there to _punish_ us?"

His friends snickered, and the boy who'd stepped forward continued, "I'm kind of into literature. It impresses the ladies." His voice dropped an octave and the words sent a chill down her spine. "Peyton Sawyer was beautiful," he quoted, "but she wasn't the type of girl who used that to her advantage. She had so many qualities, some showcased, some hidden. She was immensely talented, fiercely strong-willed, witty and supportive. Beneath all her spirit and passion were losses that she couldn't shake, but that vulnerability made me love her even more. Her outer beauty hid her amazing heart, cracked but capable. I loved her most for all of her soulfulness, but I cannot deny that her legs were my kryptonite."

He reached out, touching her leg just above her knees, and she snapped. Tears of anger, humiliation, and memory clouded her vision as she grabbed his wrist, preventing his hand from moving any higher. "Don't you dare," she all but hissed. "I can get you expelled; I could break your arm right now."

"Don't be like that," he grinned. "I'm just waiting for it. I mean, the hero's gotta show up, right? What was it, again? _You're always saving me_?" he mocked her.

She couldn't' speak, though she wanted to scream at him. Everything she'd been through hrut her enough without having it thrown back in her face by some cocky, horny teenage boy. She didn't want to be so defenseless, but his words were powerful weapons.

"She was meant for me." Lucas' perfect words sounded so crude coming from this kid's mouth. "I knew it from the day her car stopped an inch from my knees, and I knew it when there was no longer any space between us, her body moulding perfectly into mine as we stod on the floor of that gymnasium and all my dreams came true…" By the time he finished, she could barely breathe and their positions had been reversed; _he_ had a firm grasp on _her_ wrist.

He took another step forward, his breath against her skin, and visions of Ian Banks flooded her mind.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're _doing_?" a deep, powerful voice demanded, and suddenly she had her arm back.

Nathan stepped in front of her, absolutely fuming. "A month of detention. _None _of you are going to the alumnae dinner. And _none_ of you are making my basketball team. Now get _out_ of here before I lose it." His fists were clenched at his sides.

Wide-eyed and frightened, they scrambled off.

Nathan turned to her, his expression softening. "You okay? Peyt, what happened?" he asked, gesturing to her wrist, which she'd begun massaging lightly without realizing it.

His fingers, warm and comforting, closed over hers. "Has anything like this ever happened before?"

She shook her head. She was used to catching the eyes of the male half of the student body, but this was much different.

He nodded to himself, relieved, and tried to smile. "You should've taken 'em out, Sawyer. I know you have it in you."

Peyton meant to smile back, but her tears spilled over instead.

"Hey," he said worriedly, touching her cheek lightly. "You're okay. It's okay."

She let him pull her into a tender hug, snuggling into his chest until she started to feel safe. "I _hate_ that book," she sniffled.

His arms tightened around her. "I know." He spoke softly, into her hair, and she believed him.

{x}

She was barely awake the next morning when she heard a knock on the door. She smiled wearily, assuming that it was Nathan coming to check on her. He'd been reluctant to leave the previous night. She'd spent nearly an hour reassuring him that she was fine – which had exhausted her, along with the emotional stress. The last thing she remembered was falling asleep on the couch while he sat in a nearby chair, watching over her guardedly as basketball players ran about noiselessly on the TV in the background. He must have left pretty late.

When she opened the door she saw Ethan, not Nathan, and she found herself wrapped in a comforting hug before she could even say hi. She groaned into his shoulder even as she gave herself over to his embrace. "Does _everyone_ know?"

He winced on her behalf as he pulled back, his eyes skimming over her body as if checking for broken bones. "Teenage boys are known to brag."

"Oh, God."

"There is a plus side, though," he hurried on. "The administration knows about it now."

Her jaw dropped. "That's a _good_ thing!?"

"They'll probably get suspended for a week, Peyton. Even expelled."

"Awesome," she growled.

"Hey," he said softly, not understanding her anger. He reached toward her, his touch gentle and cautious. "They deserve to be punished. Sexual harassment is a big deal."

She ran her hand over her eyes. "They're stupid, immature kids, yeah. And you're right, they have it coming, especially if they're publicizing it to the world, but I…I don't need any more drama in my life."

"How are you?" he asked her worriedly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm _fine_. It wasn't…it wasn't _that_ big a deal."

"Don't be stupid."

She sighed, her shoulders slumping a bit. "Okay, well, it definitely wasn't as bad as it could have been."

"Ah. Yes."

Peyton groaned again, casting him an apologetic glance as she gestured for him to come all the way in and closed the door behind them both. She leaned back against it. "So everyone knows about that, too?"

"Don't look at me like that. I'm glad he was there."

She could feel her defenses rising even though she knew it was unnecessary. "I can take care of myself. In case you haven't read the effing book like the rest of the world clearly has…this stuff happens to me _all_ the time," she said sarcastically.

Ethan smiled knowingly. "I've read it, you know that. You know that I know everything. You're a very strong person, Peyton, on a lot of levels, and I admire that. But those three guys in a dark hallway? Hell, it'd scare _me_."

She laughed in spite of herself, glancing down as she relaxed. "Maybe not the _best_ thing to tell the ladies, E."

He grinned back, winking: "I'll keep it in mind." He paused, waiting for the levity to fade a bit before asking seriously, "But really, be honest with me…you're okay, right?"

"He barely even touched me," she promised with a mirthless smile.

Ethan studied her, his eyes lit up with concern. "Talk to me."

She crossed her arms, hugging herself protectively. "He just…he said some things I…some things I didn't need to hear." She assessed Ethan's expression and shook her head. "It wasn't even anything bad, Ethan, it really wasn't. It was just…the way he said the things he said."

He offered himself up as her unconditional confidant: "You can tell me anything."

"I know," she said quietly. She felt bad for turning him down; he deserved such a high position in her life. He deserved a lot more than she could give him. But Nathan had already listened to her sleepy, heartbroken confessions of how haunted she was by those words, and she didn't need to relive any of it. She'd had her pitiful moment. She was over it now. "I'm okay," she told him again. "I promise."

{x}

The usual curiosity with which her students eyed her was nothing compared to the staring they tried to hide on this day. She set her books down with a little more force than necessary, well aware that they were all still gaping at her.

"Are you okay?" one of them asked in a timid voice.

She sighed and reminded herself that none of her frustration could rightfully be projected on any of them. "I'm perfectly fine, but thanks for asking." She smiled at them as a group. "Let's start talking about the Renaissance, okay?" She flicked a couple of switches, tapped a couple of keys, and then a slideshow was projected on to the board behind her. "Alright, so as you all know, this is a very important period in general art history. The Renaissance has a lot of aspects. A lot of very famous, influential artists hit their peeks during this time; we'll study a few of them and look at their lives and their inspirations. We'll look at various facets of this time period; we'll consider literature being written and published at the same time, the concept of romanticism –"

"_I_ think it's romantic," one of the girls sighed, interrupting her. She looked a little more sure of herself than her classmates did.

Peyton paused, confused. "Come again?"

"I think it's romantic," she repeated in a louder voice, clarifying, "The way Coach Scott came to your rescue like that."

She blinked a few times. "Excuse me?"

"You're dating…right?" another girl with gossip-hungry eyes asked eagerly.

"_No_!" Peyton cried emphatically, growing even more shocked when she saw that her answer seemed to have surprised _all_ of her students. "No, we're not," she repeated forcefully. "He was simply helping me out, the way any person with any integrity would. I don't know who started that rumour, but it's entirely _false_. And while I appreciate your concern, your curiosity is going to _remain_ curiosity. We won't be discussing my personal life in the classroom ever again." She turned back to her slideshow, satisfied with her assertiveness.

Her students, however, didn't seem to care. "But you _did_ date, right? For a long time," another kid added.

Peyton whirled back around. "How do you –"

She stopped short, spotting the copy of _An Unkindness of Ravens_ in the student's hands. She saw red. Placing her hands on her hips, she said, "Every single one of you with a copy of that book, I want it on my desk right now." No one moved, so she repeated, "All of you, or you'll get detention for a week. _Right_ now."

There was a flurry of movement. Two minutes later she was staring down at fourteen copies of the novel. She forced a smile as she gathered the books in her arms. "Excuse me for a moment."

She marched down the hallway, fiercely determined, with the tower of novels teetering in her arms. She walked to the doors of her building and out, down the walkway toward the gymnasium, and let herself in.

Nathan's entire potential basketball team sat in front of him, looking chagrined as he paced menacingly, talking at top volume and speed. Peyton paused just inside.

"Coach Scott?" she called in her most professional tone of voice. "I'm very sorry to interrupt, but may I borrow you for a moment?"

An immediate murmur started up amongst the teenagers, but one deathly glare from Nathan silenced them. "Of course, Miss Sawyer," he replied, his voice strained, and followed her back out of the gym.

She handed him half of the books before he could speak.

"Peyton – what – " He stared down at the books he held in bewilderment.

"Come with me, please," she ordered, beginning to walk off without waiting for him.

He caught up with her easily. "Uh, are you aware of what people are saying about us?" he asked nervously. "I'm not sure you dragging me out of the gym is the best way to squash those rumours."

She gritted her teeth, heels clacking quickly against the stone walkway as she headed toward the building that housed the administrative offices. "I have my own methods."

"Are you okay?"

"Peachy," she snapped, balancing the novels carefully as she opened the door, letting them both in. She walked upstairs with Nathan one step behind her, leading him directly to the Headmistress' office. She breezed by the secretaries and walked in without preamble.

"Miss Sawyer!" Headmistress Stora spluttered when she barged in. "Mr. Scott." She eyed them both a bit suspiciously. Clearly, the rumours had reached her, too. She focused her gaze on Peyton, asking worriedly, "How are you?"

"Fine, thank you," Peyton replied politely.

"Well…good. I assure you that those boys will be dealt with most severely…"

"Thank you," she said earnestly. "I appreciate it. But I was wondering if there wasn't one more small thing you could do for me?" She set the books down on the desk and Nathan, following her lead, did the same.

"I'm afraid I don't follow," the headmistress replied, clearly confused.

Nathan had finally caught up to her train of thought. He touched the ring finger of her left hand with the pinky finger of his right subtly. She glanced at him and grinned in response to the impressive, raised-eyebrow look he wore. _Closure, _he mouthed, clearly proud of her, and she nodded surreptitiously. She returned her gaze to the head of the school, wearing her natural smile.

"I'd like you to ban this book from school grounds."

**A/N: **Thank you so much for reading/reviewing. One reviewer pointed out that Ethan's last name was actually Copeland. I'm going to leave it as Cooper, just because I've already written it that way. To those of you who expected this to be LP, I apologize for misleading you, but I hope you can still enjoy it. Reviews are always awesome, and bonus points to those of you who I can guess the song from which the title of each chapter comes from. ;)


	4. old teenage hopes are alive at your door

**Near to You**

{_'cause near to you, I am healing, but it's taking so long_}

Chapter Four: _old teenage hopes are alive at your door_

"Rebel, rebel," Nathan commented teasingly, winking at her as she walked into the gymnasium. "I hear that this campus is officially free of all and any copies of _An Unkindness of Ravens_."

She returned his smirk with a cheeky grin of her own. "You hear right," she confirmed, unable to ignore the way his eyes traveled over her body, taking in her clingy black pants and fitted red t-shirt. _Was he checking her out?_

He stepped forward and reached out, playfully tugging at the hem of her shirt as he examined the logo emblazoned upon it. "I don't know how the Headmistress would react to having a cheerleading coach who's a walking beer advertisement, Sawyer."

Feigning disinterest, she shrugged, disguising the way she shivered when his fingertips grazed her hipbone. "I've never obeyed the rules well." She paused, biting her lower lip. "But you know that."

Nodding, he agreed: "I did. I do."

With a half-smile on her lips, she blinked innocently up at him. "You won't tell on me, will you?"

There was something deeper than she was used to in his smile, something meaningful hidden away. Something told her that she'd put a name to it soon enough. "Nah, I never would. But from what I've seen from you, lately, Peyton, I'm pretty sure you can hold your own."

"Stop," she protested. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so shy around him. Nathan Scott did not embarrass her.

He wouldn't drop it, insisting, "I'm serious. I'm proud of you, Peyton."

She let her eyes travel around the gym, arching her eyebrows pointedly. "I'm proud of you, too, Nathan."

A group of teenage girls walked into the gym at that moment, stopping short when they spotted Nathan and Peyton. They started talking quickly and giggling nervously, huddling together as they spoke.

Both Peyton and Nathan took steps back and away from each other. She rubbed the back of her neck, slipping her hand into her hair. "_That's_ definitely going to quiet those rumours…" she muttered sarcastically.

"Why are you worried? I thought you were a rule breaker."

"I am." She looked at him for a long moment, trying to understand the implication of her own words. "I'll see you around, Coach."

Nathan smirked. "Looking forward to it, Miss Sawyer."

{x}

"You think you've got it?" Peyton asked, a little bit breathlessly, as she regarded her squad.

They giggled nervously and shrugged.

"Maybe?" Mia offered.

Peyton laughed. "Okay, let's try it from the top with music. I'll do it with you," she promised, walking over to her iPod dock and selecting the song.

She'd stolen a couple parts of the routine from various cheer camps and high school competitions, and she knew it so well that she could do the moves without really having to think. She called out helpful words during the trickier parts, offering up some direction, but otherwise allowed herself to zone out.

Nathan was watching. He was standing in the doorway of his office, his eyes following her every move. She could feel the pressure of his gaze on each singular part of her body before his eyes moved on, and the sensation felt her flying into a flashback.

It's ninth grade; she's openly sarcastic and secretly scared. She fingers the hem of her short blue skirt and misses her mom. It reminds her why she's there on the basketball court with some of the most brainless girls in the school. Some guy makes a basket and the crowd goes while; she cheers because that's what she's there to do, dimly realizing that the scorer is absolutely gorgeous but ridiculously aware of that fact. As she shakes her pom-poms, Brooke leans over and whispers mischievously, _Nathan Scott so totally wants you, P. _And as much as she wants to pretend that she doesn't care, she knows who Nathan Scott must be and she finds that she's blushing.

"And kick, step…" she guided her squad as the routine wound down. Feeling daring and a little bit lost in the past, she caught Nathan's eye, winking as she popped her hip. His blue eyes glimmered madly and she realize that, this time, she just might totally want him.

{x}

"Hurry up!"

"Stop _rushing_ me!"

She planted one hand on her hip. "It should _not_ take you half an hour to peel _five_ carrots."

"I don't want another injury!" he protested, holding up his bandaged thumb for emphasis and adopting a wounded expression.

Peyton nudged him out of the way, her hip bumping his, and snatched the peeler out of his hand. "It's painfully obvious that you're not used to feeding yourself," she informed him.

He leaned back against the counter, relaxing. "Well, I don't have to worry anymore, do I? You'll take care of me," he added, confident in his assertion.

Her eyebrows flew up. "You think so, huh? Well, if I'm your chef, what'll you be for me?"

Nathan smirked self-assuredly, gesturing to his body. "Eye candy," he said as though it were the obvious answer.

As she scraped the carrots slices off the plate and into the pan where her stir-fry was coming together nicely, she rolled here yes. "I'll forgive you for that only because you've already acted as my bodyguard."

His lips curved into a frown. "Don't think like that."

She glanced over at him, surprised by the seriousness of his tone. "Like what?"

"Like you _need_ saving. I know you've been through a lot of shit and I get that that's got to be hard to deal with. But you can take care of yourself. I know that you don't want me to say this, Peyton, but…I think one of the reasons losing my brother devastated you so much was because you thought you needed a protector, and he never let you down in that aspect."

Shocked, she stared at him, having to blink several times before she got her bearings. She forgot about the food as she dumbly said, "I loved Lucas." It was the first time since their separation in L.A. that she'd ever said those words in the past tense.

"I know you did," he agreed readily. "Just like I loved Haley. But for the majority of the time she was in my life, Haley was my wife. And for almost all the time you knew Luke, he was your saviour." Nathan paused as though he was carefully choosing his next words. "After the accident and the divorce, I had to remind myself of who I was before I was Haley's husband. I don't mean what a jerk of a guy, I just mean…who I was before she was part of the definition of _me_. I needed to remember who I was." He took a step closer to her, smiling slightly. "Where's old-school Peyton Sawyer, huh? The girl who never took my crap and tried valiantly to get me to change even when I was a lost cause? She didn't need anyone to save her; she could save herself."

Startled, she could do nothing but stare at him. Nathan wasn't one for meaningful speeches packed with insight, and she was struck speechless in the face of his words.

The fire detector went off and she realized that she'd allowed things to burn. For a few moments they rushed around, opening windows and fanning smoke as they tried to silence the incessant beeping.

When it finally ended, Peyton was standing over the sink, staring down at the pan which sizzled under the steam of cold water. There were tears in her eyes, a strange mix of gratitude and defensive anger. "I ruined it."

Nathan's voice was uncharacteristically soft. "Let me take you out to dinner."

"I thought…I thought I didn't need saving," she replied brokenly. The words were meant to lighten the mood, though they didn't.

"I'm just trying to feed you."

She sighed. "I thought I was going to take care of you." She leaned too much of her weight into the tap as she turned it off, and it squealed in protest.

"So start tomorrow," he said gently.

"Nate…there are already all these rumours about us…"

He grinned when she said _us_. "Maybe I like it. I thought you were a rule-breaker, Sawyer."

Though reluctant, her smile was genuine, matching his. "Do you remember our first date?" she asked impulsively.

"Sure. You told me my shirt was ugly and that you'd break my arm if I tried anything."

She shook her head in disbelief at her own past self. "Why did you ever want me?"

"Because you were gorgeous," he said naturally, shrugging. "And because you made me work for it."

Incredulously, she asked, "You _enjoyed_ all the bitchiness?"

Nathan smirked devilishly. "It was hot."

Rolling her eyes, she couldn't help but laugh. She loved his brutal honesty. Shoving the bag of carrots at his chest, she ordered, "Peel me some more of those, and _fast_ this time, you slacker. I said I'd make you dinner and I'm going to."

"_There's_ the girl I've always known," he said approvingly before teasingly announcing, "The bitch is back!"

Peyton endured his torments good-naturedly as she hunted for another onion. "And you think that's a good thing, do you?"

She didn't miss the lascivious look that passed over his face.

"_Hell_ yeah, I think it's a good thing."

{x}

"Hey, stranger," Ethan greeted her casually when she walked into the staff room the next morning.

"Hey," she said softly in reply, her tone apologetic as she took his mug and poured him a cup of coffee. "Have I been distant lately? I'm sorry, E."

He shrugged, waving her words away. "Don't worry about it. I know you've had a lot going on lately."

"Nathan and I are just friends," she said instantly, shooting him a subdued glare.

Ethan held up his hands in surrender, his eyes twinkling with a resigned sort of amusement. "Nice to know. I was referring to the sexual harassment, but thanks for letting me know your dating status."

Peyton groaned, covering her eyes with her hand momentarily. "You're welcome," she muttered, at a loss for any other response.

"You want to tell me what's going on?" He offered. She thought it was noble that he was willing to be her confidante even though her problems had the potential to hurt him.

She perched next to him on one of the couches and sighed. "I might have a crush," she admitted.

"_Might_?"

"Ethan," she growled, "I love you and everything, but please shut up."

He chuckled knowingly. "Sorry."

"I can't…I can't be into him."

Ethan shrugged. "Why not?" he asked rationally.

"Because! He's my ex-boyfriend from high school. He's divorced from one of my best friends and they have a kid. He's going through a lot with his career right now. He's the brother of the boy who I thought, for a long time, was my soulmate."

"You do realize that most of that is irrelevant, right?"

"Ethan," she sighed exasperatedly.

"I'm serious. Look, Peyton…when I read _Ravens_, I got to know the story of you and Lucas. You and Nathan had about a paragraph for your story to be told, and it sounded pretty destructive."

"Lots of fighting and lots of sex, right?" she asked wryly.

"Pretty much, yeah. And I guess…what you need to ask yourself is whether or not that was all your relationship ever was."

She sighed, staring off into space. "That's what we always said. He was the star of the basketball team and I was the one cheerleader whose affection he actually had to earn. He said Haley was his first love and I said Lucas was mine. Nathan and I…it was two years of one-night stands." She hesitated. "It was like we were waiting, even though we didn't realize it, you know? He was waiting for the good girl to come along so that she could change him into a good guy, and I was waiting for the boy who'd fix my car and my heart at the same time."

"But…?"

Her fingers knotted together as she admitted, "But maybe…I did love him. Does that even matter? Haley was better for him. Lucas was better for me."

Ethan furrowed his eyebrows. "Look where you are now," he reminded her. "Maybe they weren't better for you after all."

She grimaced. She'd hoped not to spend the rest of her life pining over Lucas, but of all the guys in the world to fall for, Nathan would have been the last one she'd thought of. "Isn't there a rule, somewhere, that forbids this?" she demanded desperately. "Colleagues dating?"

He rolled his eyes. "Do you really think I'd have tried to hard to take you out if there was?"

She blew out her breath in frustration.

"Peyton…I've been trying to win you over for nearly two years now. I think I know you pretty well, and if you have feelings for this guy…then it's got to be serious."

"Nathan and I can't _date_," she cried, struck by the ludicrousness of the idea. "First of all, I'm _sure_ he doesn't see me that way –"

"Whatever you need to tell yourself."

Ignoring him, she continued, "And he's been great to me lately, but he sucks as a boyfriend. He never even took me out to dinner unless I nagged him about it, he never –"

"Hey, there you are!"

Peyton glanced up, jaw dropping, to find Nathan walking toward her. "H-hey," she stuttered. "When'd you get here?" she asked nervously.

He gave her a strange look. "Right now," he said slowly, frowning. He sat next to her, his hand resting in the space behind her so that if she leaned back, his arm would be around her. "Hey, Ethan."

"Nathan," Ethan replied by way of greeting.

"So I was thinking," Nathan told her, "you made me dinner last night, so I owe you. Let me take you out."

She opened her mouth but no sound came out. Unable to keep from smirking, Ethan muttered something about setting up for a lab and rushed out of the room.

"What do you say?" Nathan asked eagerly, his eyes meeting hers. She remembered playing around in the ocean with him, his arms around her waist, giggling under the summer sun. It hadn't _always_ been a vicious cycle sex and fighting.

"Sure," she said, hoping that he couldn't sense the pounding of her heart. "That's only fair."

{x}

Peyton glanced around the restaurant as she took a sip of her wine, wracking her brain for conversation topics. She had nothing. He'd said she looked beautiful and she'd thanked him. They'd talked about the high school they taught at and the high school they'd attended. They had ordered their food from the French menu. And now she had nothing to say.

Nathan studied her across the candle-lit table with four different forks at each place setting, biting his lower lip momentarily. She had a feeling that she looked as awkward as she felt, sitting there amongst the middle-aged couples, listening to piped in classical music. It sounded like Beethoven.

"I'm sorry," he sighed after drinking the last of his own wine in one gulp. "This is weird, isn't it?"

She smiled in relief. "Um, well…yeah. It really is. Nate, this was…really sweet of you to think of and I'm sure very…pricey…but this…this just isn't what we do, you and me."

He smiled, standing up and offering her his hand. "Let's get out of here."

{x}

"No _way_ should he have gotten a free throw for that!" Peyton cried indignantly, staring at the TV screen in disbelief.

Nathan chuckled as he handed her another beer. "I cannot believe you watch ESPN."

She shrugged. "Side effect of hanging out with the Scott family for a little too long," she told him teasingly.

He grinned and glanced around them as the network went to commercial. "This doesn't exactly feel like me paying you back for dinner." It was past nine o'clock and the pizza they'd ordered had just arrived, dripping with grease. They were sitting in front of the floor, leaning back against Nathan's couch, as his cushion's still hadn't arrived, and watching a basketball game.

Peyton frowned slightly. "What're you talking about? You don't have to pay me back for anything."

Instead of replying, he said, "Do you remember Valentine's Day in ninth grade?"

Squinting, she searched her mind before finally admitting, "Not really. Should I?"

He shrugged, smiling sheepishly. "You got so mad at me that day. All the other girls had boyfriends who took them out to dinner at fancy restaurants and bought them flowers, but I just showed up at your house after basketball practice and asked if you wanted to rent a movie."

"Oh, my God," she murmured, the memory coming back to her.

"You must've yelled at me for an hour."

"It was _not_ that long," she protested.

"Oh, _yeah_, it was," he told her firmly. "And somewhere amid all that cussing, you told me that you were ready."

She smirked, partially embarrassed. "But that you weren't getting _anything_ from me if you didn't learn how to treat me."

Nathan nodded. "So the next day I picked you up and took you to the beach house, and we ate those liqueur-filled chocolates leftover from my parents' anniversary and went swimming even though it was freezing cold."

"And when we got inside," she continued, picking up the story easily where he'd left off, "You lit the fire and gave me roses."

He smirked suggestively. "And you gave me…you."

Peyton rolled her eyes, pressing her lips together to keep from smiling. "Why are we talking about this now?" she whispered. She had a serious case of butterflies.

Nathan shrugged, glancing away from her for a moment. "I guess I just…Maybe the whole restaurant idea was stupid, but…this time, I wanted you to know that I've learned how to treat you."

Her heart rate skyrocketed; her breathing was shallow as his eyes bored into hers. "Nathan…" she breathed, confused and delighted all at once.

And it was just like before, in a dimly lit room with a little bit of alcohol in her system. Where there had once been nervousness, there's only anticipation, and where he'd once gently tugged a towel down so that it no longer covered her shoulder, this time it was a blanket. And just like all those years before, it's his lips crazing the corner of her mouth and his husky voice whispering in her ear, trying not to be presumptuous.

_"We don't have to do anything you don't want to do…" _

**A/N: **Thanks so much for reviews! I'm having a lot of fun with this and I'm glad that all of you seem to be enjoying it as well.

For the record, the title of this story comes from A Fine Frenzy's _Near to You_. The first chapter's line is from Justin Timberlake's _Cry Me a River_, the second from Stars' _The Beginning After the End_, and the third chapter's name comes from Daft Punk's _Harder Better Faster Stronger_. Anyone have guesses for this one? ;)


	5. it'll start with a smile

**Near to You**

{_'cause near to you, I am healing, but it's taking so long_}

Chapter Five: _it'll start with a smile that won't wipe off your face no matter how hard you try_

"Wow." Ethan blinked, rubbing his eyes dramatically. "That is one blinding smile you're wearing."

Peyton shrugged carelessly as she filled her mug with coffee. "So what if it is?"

He drained his coffee cup and crossed his arms over his chest. "So…you got lucky."

She burst out laughing. "Ethan, if I was _that_ easy, you would've gotten some a _long_ time ago."

"Touché," he chuckled. "I'll take that as a compliment…I think. Now why don't you tell me what the reason for that smile of yours is."

"Nothing…" she sing-songed.

"_Nothing_ meaning…"

She could feel herself beginning to blush. "Meaning I may have made out with a certain basketball coach last night."

Ethan smiled softly, taking in her pink cheeks and her starry eyes. "I'm happy you're happy, Peyton."

She knew that he meant it. "Thanks, E. That means a lot."

{x}

"_What_ has gotten into you this morning?" Mia asked, her tone both shocked and impressed, as she sidled up to Peyton, who was walking briskly down the hallway. "Or should I ask _who_ got into you last night?"

"Oh, _please_," Mia scoffed. "Did you finally hook up with Dr. Cooper? Or, oh my god…are those rumours about you and the hot new basketball coach _true_?"

Peyton sighed, coming to a halt and placing her hand on the younger girl's arm. "Mia. You _know_ you are my favourite student –"

"Yeah, teacher's put; it's doing wonders for my social reputation," she grumbled sarcastically.

"Yes, well, honey, there is still no way I'm telling you about my personal life. And you should keep in mind that I'm still your teacher and I can still give you detention for saying inappropriate things."

Mia rolled her eyes at the empty threat and smiled widely. "You are _so_ falling in love right now!" she proclaimed.

"_Bye_," Peyton aid pointedly as Mia turned right, heading to her next class.

The bell was going to ring any minute, and Peyton picked up the pace, hurrying to _her_ next class. As she was on her way, a hand reached out of an empty classroom, grabbing her wrist and pulling her in.

It was a blur for a moment, but in a familiar rather than frightening way. Somehow, she found time to drop her books on the nearest desk before Nathan pulled her into his arms and her lips found his.

"Mm," she purred appreciatively when they pulled apart for air. Resting her forehead against his, she whispered, "Hi."

His eyes scanned over her face as though he'd never really taken the time to look before – and he certainly hadn't, not in recent years. "Look at you," he marveled softly. He traced the curve of her jaw with his thumb. "I've been thinking about you al day."

She grinned, giggling nervously. "That was my goal."

"Mission accomplished," he all but growled, pulling her in for another bruising kiss.

Her head was spinning. She couldn't believe they were doing this. "It feels like we're in high school again," she said breathlessly.

"We _are_," he smirked.

Rolling her eyes fondly, she sighed, "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, it feels like that. But it's different. We're different, both of us, and _we_ are going to be better this time."

The bell sounded as she searched his eyes. She was startled back to reality. "Shit, I have a class!" She turned around and frantically gathered her books and binders.

Nathan grabbed her free hand to get her attention. "Hey. I mean it. We're going to be better this time."

She melted. She was surprised she didn't literally dissolve into a puddle on the floor. She stood on the tips of her toes to kiss him one last time before she rushed off. "I know," she whispered against his lips.

He didn't let go of her hand until the last possible second.

{x}

"Anybody?" Peyton asked patiently, drumming her fingers against the top of her desk. "C'mon, guys; this painting was in your textbook. Who's the artist?" She sighed. "_Any_one? Please tell me you did your readings."

One girl sat back, crossing her arms over her chest. "We're not really allowed to read much these days."

Peyton sighed again. She stood from where she'd been leaning against her desk and stood at the exact front of the room, blocking the screen that displayed her slideshow. "Okay. Listen, I know that this school has rules that sometimes seem a little archaic, and that you resent having something taken away from you, but…it's my life story, and I'm just not comfortable with it being available to the student body."

"But that's not _fair_," another of the kids piped up. "Yeah, it's your story, but it's published. It's out there. Anyone can read it. We should have that right, too." He jutted out his chin stubbornly.

"Oh, you guys…it's just a book," she replied gently.

"No, its not! It's beautiful and it's epic. It's _art_," a timid-looking girl retorted quietly. "I always wanted to be you."

Peyton smiled softly, touched by her words. "Thank you. That's…amazing. But all of you can have lives far greater and more epic than mine as it was depicted in that book. I know you can."

The first girl who'd spoken shook her head. "I don't think so. I don't know if I'll ever find what you had with Lucas."

She wasn't sure when this had morphed into a discussion on true love, but it had, and her students were all looking at her with wide, sad eyes. She sighed once more as she took in their mournful expressions. She had been these kids. "You _will_," she said quietly but firmly, addressing them all. "I'm sure you will, I really am."

"I know that…you don't want to talk about your personal life…but I just…I don't understand how you can say that. I'm sorry if this hurts you, Miss Sawyer, but what you and Lucas had was once-in-a-lifetime love."

Peyton stepped to the side once more, ready to resume her lesson. "I'm going to break my own rules _just_ this once," she said slowly, "and tell you that…I'm not sure if that's true." She took a deep breath. "Now. Somebody, please, at least give me an educated guess for the artist of this painting."

{x}

"Hey." Nathan leaned down, kissing her quickly before he stepped into her home, closing the door behind himself. "You busy?"

Peyton pulled the pencil out of her hair, releasing her locks from the messy bun they'd been in and letting her curls tumble onto her shoulders. "Um…yeah, I'm marking papers. But I guess they can wait." Her eyes twinkled. "What did you have in mind?"

He grinned, pleased. "Are you ready for this?"

She nodded eagerly. The look in his eyes guaranteed that whatever he was about to say would make her laugh.

"We're going bowling!" he crowed as if he'd scored tickets to her favourite band's concert.

Peyton smiled, open-mouthed, and giggled. "Shut up, we are not."

"Are _too_."

"Why?" she laughed.

"Because I want to take you on a date," he shrugged, "and there are very few options in this tiny town."

"But _bowling_?"

"Come on, you know you want to…unless you're afraid that I'll kick your ass."

"Impossible."

"Okay, well, go grab some old socks, and let's go."

She sighed, biting her lip nervously. "Nathan…this…you and I…it's kind of come out of nowhere. And it's good, I'm…I'm happy, but if…if we're really going to try this…it has to be serious. Haley's my friend, Lucas is your brother. And I…I can't get hurt again. And I don't want you to either," she added quietly, hoping that he would understand that she was saying this to protect them both.

"Peyton." He reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear. "I know that. All of it, I promise. Why the hell else do you think I would have planned a lame-ass bowling date?"

Her smile reappeared, soft and sweet. _This_ was why she'd always forgiven him back in high school. The casual honesty of his words, the sincerity in his eyes, the gentle way he touched her.

"Okay," she whispered, locking her green orbs with his blue ones. "Let's go bowling."

{x}

"_Yes_!" Peyton cheered, throwing her arms in the air and doing a small dance as her ball knocked all the pins over.

"That's my girl," Nathan said proudly.

She grinned, striding over to him and pressing the length of her body against his. "Is that what you're calling me now?" There was a teasing lilt to her voice even though she spoke quietly.

Nathan titled his head, grinning back confidently. "Why, you got a problem with that?" he asked huskily.

Their noses brushed as she shook her head _no_, and then his lips were pressed against hers, his tongue seeking entrance to her mouth. She snaked her arms around his neck and granted it.

Even though it was the last thing she wanted, she forced herself to pull away fairly quickly. She may have _felt_ like a lovestruck teenager again, but she was too old for PDA in the bowling alley on a Wednesday night.

"By the way," she whispered, her eyes still half-closed as she breathed him in. "I am _owning_ you."

He smiled back, giving her a quick kiss. "I'm letting you win."

She patted his chest in a placating gesture. "Sure you are." She stepped aside and waited for him to take his turn.

He managed to knock down a single pin.

"Aw, baby," she said sympathetically with a trace of a Southern accent. It slipped into her speech very rarely, especially now that she'd been residing on the east coast for a few years. It popped up when she was most relaxed, thinking of her childhood or experiencing things that reminded her most of home. She winked at him as he dutifully wrote down his score. "Watch my technique," she lectured him teasingly.

She stepped forward and sent the ball rolling smoothly toward the pins. She waited for it to make contact and grinned when she got another strike. Turning around to brag, she found that Nathan was standing right behind her.

She went to speak and found that she was breathless. "Were you watching?"

His fingers slipped through her belt loops, tugging her forward so that their hips matched. "I was a little too distracted by the way you look in these jeans."

Her eyes searched his frantically. "What are you thinking?" she whispered.

"A lot of very inappropriate things," he replied with a wicked grin. His next words were playful and meaningful all at once: "And that I should have taken you bowling a long time ago."

{x}

"I thought you were never going to speak to me again," Nathan admitted, a smile in his voice.

She laughed, looking at the ground. They were walking back to campus, hand in hand, their footfalls in sync against the cement sidewalks. "I wasn't planning on it," she confessed. "But I guess I got most of my anger out when I punched that wall."

His thumb ran over her hand, seeking out her knuckle and caressing it gently. "I can't believe you broke your knuckle for me. That's got to mean something," he teased.

"That we were destructive?" she suggested with a laugh, leaning into him a bit.

"No. That we were passionate."

It felt daring to meet his eyes. "We were definitely that," she said a bit dryly.

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, making her giggle, but his facial expression softened rapidly. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"About your knuckle."

"I did," she reminded him, frowning in confusion as to why he couldn't remember. "Twelfth grade? An hour to get to know someone and to change your life?"

"No, I know, I mean…why didn't you tell me when we were dating? After it happened?"

She shrugged. "Honestly? I don't really know. At first I was mad, and then once we got back together…I didn't really think about it. It would've just reminded me to be mad at you," she added playfully.

Nathan laughed. "Well…tell me that stuff, okay? Now. I want you to tell me that kind of thing."

She smiled as they came to a stop in front of her door, reaching out to take his other hand as well. "I promise to report any other broken bones from now on."

"_Good_," he murmured emphatically as he leaned in to kiss her. He released her hands and pulled her closer, his hands on her hips. She moaned into his mouth as his fingers dug into her skin, kissing him back with just as much ferocity. It took a great deal of self control to force herself to pull away. She still had those papers to mark.

He made a small sound of protest when she pulled back before he confided, "I've missed you."

She allowed herself a moment to be fake a huge ego, pressing a kiss to his jaw and saying, "Of course you did."

He laughed. "I mean it, Peyton. I missed you. Just as my friend."

"I've missed you too, Nate," she told him honestly.

They took a moment to absorb each other's words, and then he smirked, revealing, "But you're right."

"Am I?" she asked.

"Yeah," he whispered as his lips brushed hers. "I missed _this_, too."

She grinned widely before she leaned up a bit, standing on her toes and wrapping her arms around him as she kissed him.

The papers she needed to mark could wait a _few_ more minutes.

**A/N: **Thanks for your feedback. :) Congrats to those of you who knew that last chapter's title came from Feist's _1234_. Anybody for this chapter?


	6. faith and desire

**Near to You**

{_'cause near to you, I am healing, but it's taking so long_}

Chapter Six: _faith and desire and the swing of your hips_

Peyton jumped a little when his arms encircled her from behind, but relaxed into his embrace as he pressed a series of kisses up the column of her neck. He spoke in between kisses, the feeling of his breath against her neck sending shivers up her spine.

"You…look so…_damn sexy_…when…you cook for me." He groaned against her neck. "You're killing me, you know that?"

She set down her spatula and turned in his arms so that she was facing him. "That's why I do it," she told him matter-of-factly, her eyes sparkling with triumph. There was a reason she'd come over here early on a Saturday morning in a short denim skirt she hadn't worn in a good three years.

"I want –"

"Pancakes?" She cut him off with her suggestion, blinking innocently.

"_You_," he said firmly, pushing aside the mixing bowl that sat behind her. She hopped up onto the counter before he could go to lift her; she still worried about his body, particularly his back.

She pressed her knees together. "I'm wearing the wrong skirt for this."

His eyes were dark, stormy blue. "You are wearing exactly the _right_ kind of skirt for this."

Nathan knew how to make her feel good. He always had, though she had only told him so once, in a rare moment of honesty in a pool not too long after their breakup.

She could feel herself caving. He wanted her, and it seemed stupid to deny them both something they desired. But at the same time, they'd been together for all of a week and she was sitting on his kitchen counter at eight o'clock on a Saturday morning, the corner of a box of pancake mix poking into her back. She wouldn't have thought twice about any of it when she was sixteen. But they were better than this now.

"Wait," she murmured, pushing at his chest lightly.

"What…what is it?"

She shook her head, straightening her skirt and sitting upright. "Not now, Nathan. Not here. Not like this."

He frowned, trying to understand her through the haze of lust that had overtaken his mind. "Did you want…"

Peyton shook her head again. She didn't need Egyptian cotton of a dozen roses. She'd already had her first time with him, albeit many years ago. And while he was being entirely sweet to her, she just didn't want to have sex with him for the first time in years on the kitchen counter of his faculty house. "Just not like this," she sighed. He was still frowning, so she elaborated, "We're adults now, Nathan. I want this to be an adult relationship."

His hand fell from her thigh, where it had been resting. "That's crap."

As she tugged the hem of her skirt downward, her eyebrows flew up. "It's crap because you can't get laid right now?" she demanded defensively.

"No," he said, "It's crap because you don't know how an adult relationship _works_. You've never _had_ one. You had Lucas, and then you couldn't get over him and you had nothing. No wonder you're being so weird about this. "

She slid off the counter and brushed by him forcefully. She couldn't look at him. She couldn't respond to that.

Behind her, he sighed. "Look, Peyton…"

She blinked repeatedly. "I'm going to go," she said robotically.

"Peyton…" he reached for her arm, gently touching her elbow, but she wrenched herself out of his reach, turning around in the process so that he could see the tears that were beginning to form.

"Don't touch me," she bit out.

"Hey," he said apologetically, staring at the tears that gathered in her lower lashes worriedly. "Look, I didn't mean to –"

"Oh, you meant it. I could tell that you meant it."

"Would you just listen to me for a second?"

"No. How _dare_ you say that to me?" she seethed. "Yeah, okay, maybe it's been a while since I've had sex, and maybe it's been a really long time since I've been seriously involved with someone, but I was hurt. I was still in love and I was hurt and now _you're_ standing here throwing this in my face!"

"Peyton, I…"

"You want to talk about adult relationships, Nathan?" she asked him angrily, planting a hand on her hip. "Okay, let's talk about you. You got married at sixteen, and as far as I can tell, it was downhill from there. What kind of adult relationship did you have, huh? The kind where you selfishly drink yourself into oblivion, forgetting your son and leaving your wife to take care of the house and your child _and_ you?"

He stared at her, struck speechless, just as she had been moments before. "Whoa," he finally said softly, and she was flooded with emotion.

Contritely, she whispered, "Nate, I didn't mean –"

He cut her off. "Yeah, you did." He shook his head. "I really don't understand why you turned me down, earlier, though," he added mockingly, "you've just made it painfully obvious how badly you need to get laid."

Peyton shook her head in disgust, whirling around and pacing away from him. She felt bad, but he'd hit all of her nerves and she'd hit his right back.

"Where are you _going_?" he demanded, right on her heels.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she replied with faux earnestness. "Should I stay and let you _do me_ so I can become a little more _likable_?"

"That's not what I –"

"In answer to your question, Nathan, I'm _leaving_. I don't know why we even tried to fool ourselves."

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" he demanded hotly.

"It means that we were right!" She yelled back. "Everyone was right! All our relationship has ever been and all it ever _will_ be…fighting and sex, right?"

"Well, whose fault is that?" he demanded irrationally.

"Mine, of course," she said sarcastically, "because I won't sleep with you right now."

"I show up here and all of a sudden you're helping me unpack and showing me around and cooking me dinner! You're the one who initiated this!"

"_Me_? You were practically drooling! It's like you just got out of jail."

"You were so desperate you threw yourself at me! What is it about me that reminds you of Lucas, huh? The eyes?"

Her own eyes widened in disbelief that he'd even ask her that. "No, more like your uncanny similarities to the wonderful man you both call your father."

"Go to hell," he growled, and a fresh batch of tears stung at her eyes.

"Fuck you, Nathan," she whispered back, reaching for the doorknob and letting herself out.

"Apparently not!" he called bitterly after her.

{x}

"This is the third day in a row this has happened," Peyton told her class on Monday morning, trying to remain patient. "When I give you homework, I expect you to _do_ it."

"Come on, Miss Sawyer," one of the smarter students groaned. "This is a joke class."

She could only stare at him for a moment. "Excuse me?" she asked incredulously.

"You _know_ what I mean. The school only forces students to take these classes in order to 'broaden their horizons'. In reality, am I really going to use this class? When I'm working at CERN colliding particles to discover the smallest components of matter, am I really going to need to know _anything_ about Monet?" He smiled confidently. "No. I'm not."

Her weekend had been miserable. She'd spent the remainder of Saturday watching the movie channel on her couch while she marked quizzes. All of Sunday had been dedicating to moping around while she avoided phone calls from Ethan and her father. She hadn't slept very well despite all the time she'd spent in bed, and the last thing she needed first period on a Monday morning was some smartass physics genius teenager who felt the need not only to belittle, but to completely discredit her course.

Her hands balled into fists. "I can't do this right now," she sighed, shaking her head. "Read chapter three," she ordered quietly, and proceeded to walk out of the room.

Outside in the hall, she buried her face in her hands and took several deep breaths. It had been years since she'd felt quite this helplessly depressed about something.

"Hey." A hand touched her back softly. "You okay?"

Instead of replying, she simply rotated her body about thirty degrees and leaned into Ethan's body, burying her face in his chest. He hugged her automatically, rubbing large, slow circles on her back. "Bad morning?"

"Bad _weekend_," she responded, her voice muffled. She pulled away from him, shot him a quick smile of gratitude, and sighed.

"Want to talk about it?"

"Don't you have class?"

"So do you," he reminded her, smiling slightly.

"Yeah," she breathed. "I've got to get back in there and…teach something."

His hand was still resting lightly on her back. "Are you sure you don't want to tell me what's going on?"

Peyton shook her head. "Honestly, I don't want to talk about it. It sucks enough without having to relive it."

Ethan nodded sagely. "You and Nathan will be okay."

She turned to look at him so quickly her neck cracked. "How did you…"

"It's obvious," he admitted.

She groaned. "The thing, Ethan, is that I'm not so sure we _will_ be okay. And even if we can be…I'm not so sure that's what I want. Maybe I should've just…we should just have stayed for friends."

"I don't think you two were ever just friends," he chuckled. "I mean, through your last year of high school and all the time he was with his wife…of course you were. But I have a feeling that you and Nathan weren't best buds before you got together."

"Fair enough," she said with a quiet laugh.

"You'll figure it out," he promised before he headed back toward the lab. "I know you will."

{x}

"Brooke Davis," a businesslike voice chirped by way of greeting.

Peyton smiled at the sound. "Oh, I'm sorry. I was looking for my best friend, but I must have the wrong number. You sound so professional."

"_P. Sawyer_!" Brooke squealed excitedly. "Oh my _God_, girl, I have _missed_ you!" There was a flurry of voices and Brooke said faintly, "Not right now. Give me a few, okay? Just fax Terri those designs we decided on earlier." Her voice became clearer as she said, "Sorry about that." She laughed happily. "How _are_ you?"

Peyton sighed, leaning back in her desk chair. "I'm…kind of crappy. Brooke, I'm sorry, I'm so horrible. I can't believe that I'm only calling you because I'm having a bad day. We haven't talked in…almost three months."

"Honey, it's okay," Brooke said quietly. "Phones work both ways. It's not like I've called you, either."

"I still suck."

"If you say so," she replied, and Peyton could almost see the teasing smile her friend was wearing. "Tell me what's wrong, P."

She bit her bottom lip hesitantly. She didn't know where to begin; she didn't feel ready to start making confessions about Nathan being there and her new-yet-old relationship with him. "Today has just…it's been bad," she whispered, tears in her voice.

"Can you tell me more?" Brooke asked her gently.

"Not really," she choked out before elaborating vaguely, "I said some stupid things I didn't really mean and I'm hurt and sad and…scared that I messed something up." She took a deep breath and laughed weakly. "How are _you_?"

Brooke laughed lightly as well. "I'm…I'm okay. Business is good, but…Victoria is…_Victoria_. And I guess…I'm lonely."

"I wish you were here. Or…I wish I was there."

"Yeah," Brooke said softly. "Sometimes I just miss how things used to be. I miss high school and cheerleading and knowing how I was. I miss the feeling of being home, and having the people I loved with me every day." Her voice perked up a bit. "But I guess you still have most of those things, right?"

Peyton sighed deeply. "More than you know," she whispered.

"Honey…have you been talking to Lucas?"

Peyton rolled her eyes even though Brooke couldn't see her. "_No_. Do you really assume that every time I cry it's because of something he's done?"

"No, I'm just…trying to get a hold on what kind of disaster we're dealing with, here," Brooke replied teasingly.

"You don't have to worry about me, B. Davis."

"You call me in tears and then tell me not to worry about you? Jeez, Peyton, you _are _a mess."

She giggled reluctantly. "Brooke…do you believe in taking second chances?"

"Sure."

"_Really_? You believe that…that things can change so much that it's actually worth it?"

"Definitely," Brooke confirmed. "And Peyton…sometimes, especially with…well, especially with _you_…sometimes you don't give the first chance the shot it deserves."

Peyton let out the breath she'd been holding. "Thank you."

"Anytime. I better hear your smile the next time you call."

"Hoes over woes," Peyton joked.

"I love you, P. Sawyer," Brooke replied quietly, and they both paused for a moment before hanging up.

{x}

Peyton closed her binder, feeling satisfied with her work. She felt bad about losing it in class earlier, so she'd designed a fun lesson for the next day, hoping that it would have the added benefit of convincing her students to start investing some time in their assignments.

It was getting late, and she was proud of herself for having the courage to be alone in the building in the late hours of the evening. After the day she'd had, the peace and quiet was actually quite relaxing. The only light in her classroom came from a single lamp, the shade of which she'd covered with a gauzy scarf. The patterns on it danced on the walls of the room, casting a soft glow. Peyton studied the pictures painted in light on the walls, propping her chin in her hand and smiling sleepily.

There was a light knock on her door and she swiveled around quickly in her chair. She was surprised to see Nathan standing in the doorway.

She tried to say _hi_, but the sound got stuck in her throat.

He held up a paper bag from the local drugstore. "Peace offering." She smiled weakly and he took that as the go-ahead to walk in and hand it to her.

She accepted it, her fingers barely brushing his, and set it in her lap. Delicately, she reached inside and removed both items.

_Cosmopolitan_ magazine and black nail polish.

"I'm sorry," she blurted.

Nathan placed his hands on her cheeks, leaning down to kiss the crown of her head, effectively silencing her. He gently pulled the nail polish from her grasp, grabbed a nearby chair, and sat down a couple feet away from her.

He arched his eyebrows pointedly as he uncapped the nail polish. Wordlessly, she slipped her feet out of her flats and rested them in his lap. He got to work instantly, but she took a moment to study him, feeling the overwhelming and contradicting needs to both laugh and cry. In the end, she simply opened her magazine and began to read in silence.

{x}

"You've gotten better," Peyton said softly, wiggling her toes. "But you didn't have to do this."

He shrugged, beginning to massage her feet without really realizing what he was doing. "It's my way of apologizing. I was a jerk, Peyton. I was horny and I wasn't thinking."

She smirked slightly.

"I didn't mean what I said. Those things about Lucas…they were uncalled for and unfair."

"Nathan…you know that I'm over this, right? These past few days…it's all been about you. You and me."

"Good to know." He acknowledged her words with a smile.

"It just…it hurt because you hit me where it has always hurt most, especially after what those boys said to me last week. But at the same time…I did the exact same thing to you. Bet you're not so glad about the bitch being back anymore, huh?"

"It's okay," he muttered.

"No, it's _not_. I didn't mean any of it. You've been through a lot, but you've always been a great dad to Jamie, and you always tried for Haley. You are _nothing_ like Dan. I mean that."

"Thanks, Sawyer," he replied quietly.

She pressed her lips together. "So where does this leave us?"

His eyes scanned her face. "Where do you want it to leave us?"

"I don't know," she sighed, breaking eye contact and avoiding his hungry gaze.

His hands continued to loosen her muscles in all the right ways. "Peyt, look, I…I know you're scared. I feel it, too. And I know that you've had your heart badly broken. _And_ I know that all of our history scares you because my track record is…not so great. But I'm different now; so are you. And these past few days, for _me_, have been better than I could have hoped for. I guess what I'm asking you for is…is some faith. I want you to have some faith in me, and in you, and in us."

Peyton took a deep breath. After a long moment, she found the courage to admit: "Luke wasn't the only one who broke my heart, you know."

His eyes were instantly flooded with emotion and comprehension, but he was kind enough not to start demanding details as to when her sixteen-year-old self had started loving him. "You know what your problem is, Peyton? You think in absolutes. _People always leave. Boys always break hearts_." His hand skimmed upward, caressing her calf. "You're the one who told me that _sometimes they come back_. Now I'm just asking you to let me try and prove that…_sometimes they take care of your heart_."

She swallowed hard. "Okay," she whispered.

Nathan grinned. "Okay?"

She smiled back, admiring the way his eyes looked in the dim light. "As long as you accept my apology."

"Of course I do. And you know that I didn't mean any of it, right? Not about Lucas, or you being desperate, or those jibes at your sex life…"

Peyton grinned tentatively, mischievously as his hand slid a little further up her leg. "Yeah…why don't we shut up about your brother…and do something about that?"

"I got a room at the Willow," he said, referring to the best hotel in town. Catching the expression she wore, he quickly added, "Sorry if that was presumptuous."

She shook her head, removing her feet from his lap and shoving the magazine in one of her desk's many drawers. She stood up, tossing her hair back. "Thank you for wanting to do that for me." She walked to the door and crooked a finger, indicating that he should follow her, which he willingly did. "And I'm glad we're going to be different, Nate." She began to walk down the hall without turning around, counting on him following her. "But I still want to be _us_. And a ritzy hotel just…isn't."

"What are you saying?" he asked slowly as he trailed after her down the darkened hallway.

She paused just before she turned a corner, looking back at him with heavy eyelids and a coy smile. "I've always wanted to do it in the Coach's office."

**A/N: **Last chapter's title came from The Lovin' Spoonful's _Do You Believe in Magic?_ Old but very good. Thanks for the reviews, and congrats to those of you who got it right. Any guesses for this chapter? ;)


	7. when she does it like this

**Near to You**

{_'cause near to you, I am healing, but it's taking so long_}

Chapter Seven: _now, when she does it like this, will you do it like that?_

His hand reached out, grasping hers, and pulling her body back to his.

"Nathan…" she sighed as she tumbled back on top of him, giggling breathlessly. "I have to go."

He sighed, his hands slipping under the shirt she was wearing, which was actually his. "No, you don't." He tilted his chin upward, capturing her lips with his.

"Mm." She covered his hand with her own, halting its movement as it inched further up her shirt. She gave him her most apologetic puppy-dog eyes as she whispered against his lips, "I really do have to go."

Reluctantly, she sat upright and tugged her (his) shirt down. She smiled as he looked at her with lusty, bleary eyes, noticing that her freshly-washed hair had left his chest and pillow damp. "I got you all wet."

He grinned, tangling his fingers with hers. Never one to pass up the opportunity for innuendo, he suggestively agreed, "Yes, you did. So why don't we do something about it?"

She rolled her eyes, feeling a rush of longing and affection toward him as he kissed her fingers. He was so sexy and sweet that it was insanely tempting to forget about her responsibilities and just stay with him. "I wish," she whispered. "But I have to get to my classroom."

"Not for half an hour."

"I have to go home first. I can't wear _your_ clothes to class."

"You look hot in my clothes," he protested cheekily.

"I think you're biased," she murmured, leaning down to kiss him.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, smoothly shifting their positions so that she was lying with her back pressed against the mattress as he hovered over her. "I'm not biased. You are just that damn beautiful."

Peyton squeezed her eyes closed as he kissed her collarbone and began working his way up her neck. "Nathan," she groaned, "I really do have to do, and you're making it _really_ fucking hard." She sighed, arching her back slightly as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. "Nate." She cupped his chin in her hand, gently forcing him to lift his head and meet her eyes. "You can't give me a hickey," she giggled.

Glancing over at his clock, she sat up at bit, leaning back on her elbows. "Can we talk?"

His eyebrows shot up, but he nodded, sitting upright next to her. "What's up?"

"Nothing serious," she assured him. "I just want…Nathan, I want us to remain between…us."

He ran his hand lightly down her arm. "I'm not understanding."

She told him outright: "I don't want anyone to know about us. That's why I can't have you giving me hickeys, and why I can't wear anything morning-after like where people can see me. Things with you right now are making me so happy…I just want to protect that." She paused. "It's important to me."

Nathan smiled. "Okay."

"Thank you."

"But…what about hickeys that you can _hide_?"

She giggled, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She leaned in to kiss him one last time. "I _have_ to go." Winking, she grabbed her sweater from the previous night. "Tonight," she promised him with a private grin.

{x}

Peyton swung the door of her classroom open, reaching out and grabbing a fistful of Nathan's shirt and dragging him in. She checked the hallway and, finding no one, closed the door behind him.

"What the hell?" he spluttered. "I thought you didn't want to go public."

"Does this look public to you?"

"Well…no," he admitted, glancing around the empty room. "But –"

"Nate," she sighed, "I've got ten minutes before I have to shove you back into the hallway. Now, we could debate what qualifies to be defined as _public_ for those ten minutes, or…"

"Point taken," he cut her off. He wrapped a strong arm around her waist, pulling her close. "I love it when you're bad."

"You love it, huh?" She smiled knowingly. "Show me how much."

{x}

"Hey –" She stopped short halfway through the door of Nathan's office. "Um, hi," she repeated, resting the majority of her weight on one of her legs as she clung to the doorknob. "Ethan," she said. "Hi."

He smiled. "_Hi_."

"What are…um…what are you doing here?"

"We were just talking," Nathan shrugged. He smiled warmly at her. "Guy stuff."

As much as she loved to see them bonding, she'd had much different ideas as to what she intended to happen in the next hour. "But, um, E., uh…"

"Yes, um, Peyton?" he asked her teasingly.

She frowned at him. "Don't you have a class?"

"Guest lecturer," he replied easily.

"Ah. I see."

Ethan smirked, clearly trying to keep from laughing. Peyton didn't like him laughing at her expense, but she was glad to see that he wasn't hurt by the reasons she was obviously there to see Nathan.

"Uh, I'm going to go. It's been really good talking to you, Nathan, but it looks like you're …_wanted._"

Peyton made a face at him as he exited. "Buh-bye." She started shutting the door before he was all the way out. "So, um…you guys were talking?"

Nathan leaned back in his chair. "Yeah."

She scowled at him suspiciously. "About me?"

"_Someone's_ self-absorbed," he chuckled. "And yeah, kind of, I guess. He seems like a really good guy. I'm glad he's been here for you."

All of her frustrations dwindled away. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. If only he wasn't hopelessly head-over-heels for you," he grumbled under his breath.

She grinned, leaning back against the door. "I came here looking for _you_, didn't I?"

A satisfied smile tugged his lips upward. "Yeah, you did. _About_ that…"

Peyton arched an eyebrow, deciding that it was his turn to work a little harder. "Yeah, _about _that…time's up."

"But…but…"

"Sorry," she told him, blatantly unapologetic, and slipped out the door.

{x}

She found herself with her back pressed up against the brick wall of one of the school's oldest buildings near the end of the day. Nathan kissed her so fiercely and suddenly that she had to take a moment to absorb the shock before she could respond.

"You're not playing fair," he said breathlessly into her hair and she kissed the curve of his jaw.

"There aren't any rules, Coach," she laughed, winded as well.

"There are _always_ rules, Miss Sawyer."

"I like a little more freedom in my classroom," she replied, lifting her chin defiantly. "And if you have a problem with that, I might just have to give you detention."

"But I have basketball practice!" His eyes twinkled. "Can I do extra credit instead?"

She pretended to think. "Well, I suppose you could write a paper on –" She stopped short, her breath catching in her throat as her knees buckled a bit. "Or _that_," she gasped out, her eyes closing. "You could do that."

{x}

Nathan's eyes had a familiar mischievous glint as he approached her in the staff room after the final bell. He kept an appropriate, purely platonic distance from her as he said, "Hey, Miss Sawyer."

"Coach Scott," she said evenly, emptying a packet of sugar into her coffee. It was her third cup of the day.

"I was just wondering if I'd be seeing you tonight."

Startled, she accidentally dropped the packet itself into her mug, turning to stare at him with wide eyes. They weren't alone in the room; this was not the time for games. "I…um…_excuse me_?" she hissed.

He furrowed his brow as though he was entirely innocent. "You know. For basketball practice. I thought we'd arranged to hold our practices at the same time so that your girls can brainstorm some creative cheers for the team."

That was total bullshit; they'd done no such thing. He was testing her, teasing her, and very well. The score was officially even. "Right," she said. "I'm so sorry I forgot." She fished the sugar packet out of her coffee and leaned past him to throw it in the garbage can. "_Truce_," she whispered pleadingly. He'd scared her and he had the upper hand because of it.

"No problem," he smirked. "We can just _do it_…some other time."

"No! No, no…tonight's fine." She cleared her throat and tried to think about their schedules. She had an elective painting class in the evenings; he had basketball practice and a phone call with Jamie. "Um…nine o'clock?"

He smiled slowly, leaning close to her as he walked past her and away. His breath against his ear made her shudder delightfully. "_That's_ why there should be rules, babe."

{x}

His voice carried up the stairs and over the sound of the shower spray. "Peyt! It's me!"

She smiled at her bottle of shampoo. "You mean my gorgeous guy? Get up here!" she yelled back.

"You really should lock your doors when you're in the shower," he called as he ascended the stairs.

She pushed the curtain back, poking her head out as he opened the bathroom door. She grinned at the sight of him, flashing her pearly whites. "But then you wouldn't be able to walk in when I'm naked."

Nathan leaned against the doorframe. "As appealing as that is, I'd rather that _no one_ be able to walk in when you're naked."

His protectiveness warmed her heart. Drops of water fell from strands of her hair as she studied him. "You look beat, Nate."

He smiled wearily. "It turns out that the players I kicked off the team for harassing you were my best kids. It's going to take a lot of work to get the rest of them playing at a higher level."

"Oh, Nathan…"

"It's okay; it's worth it. They can't talk to you or any other girl like that."

"Look at you, taking a moral stance," she praised him. "C'mere." When he was close enough, she reached out and lightly grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him closer. She kissed him passionately but softly, wanting to soothe his tired mind and body somehow.

Nathan kissed a droplet of water off her cheek. "You sure bathe a lot," he teased.

"My evening class got messy today," she laughed, nodding toward the pile of paint-splattered clothes she'd kicked aside.

"I'm going to have to thank those kids for getting you out of your clothes," he remarked, leering slightly as he glanced down at her hand on his shirt and added, "You've got me all wet again."

Peyton bit the corner of her lower lip and quirked her eyebrows. "Why don't you get in here so we can do something about that?"

{x}

"I woke up and you weren't there," Nathan pouted playfully as he walked into the kitchen, only partially joking about his disappointment.

Peyton looked up from where she was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the day's newspaper. "Hey. Sorry. You were out cold; I didn't think you'd wake up."

He swung one of the chairs around and straddled it. "It's fine. I just thought you'd left for a minute there."

She stared at him for a moment before covering one of his hands with both of her own. "Baby, this is _my_ house."

Nathan closed his eyes and sighed. "Right. I just get confused. The layout is the same in all the faculty houses."

She nodded understandingly. "Do you miss it? Tree Hill. Home."

Shrugging, he replied, "I grew up there. Like you said, it's home. But I needed a fresh start. I wanted one."

"Yeah." She knew the feeling.

"What about you, Sawyer? Are you finding the fresh start you wanted here?"

"What? I've been here for years, Nathan."

"Sure…but you're still reading the Life section of the newspaper, searching for news related to Tree Hill."

"Busted," she said softly, and excused herself by adding, "It's habit." She blew out her breath and stood up. Taking his cues from her, Nathan turned in his chair so that she could sit in his lap, carefully trying to avoid hurting any of his sore muscles in any way. She rested her head against his shoulder and doodled idly on his chest with her index finger. "Can this really feel like home to you?"

"I think so. I mean, I'm doing what I love again. That older teacher who talks with a Southern accent kind of reminds me of Whitey. I feel good. Ethan seems like he could be a good friend. And…you're here."

She smiled to herself, cuddling closer to him. "That's what seals the deal for me, too."

Nathan nuzzled her neck and kissed the shell of her ear. "Let's go back to bed."

"I thought you were tired," she accused. "You're insatiable!"

"Are you turning me down?" he asked huskily.

She got to her feet and held her hand out to him.

He grinned. "Didn't think so."

{x}

"…y'know, _sane_ people, especially those who have had psycho stalkers, they lock their doors. Even in cute little east coast prep towns…"

Peyton opened her eyes and squinted immediately. She was confused. She heard a familiar voice, but she couldn't pinpoint it or figure out where it was coming from. Part of her, comfy and half-asleep, didn't even want to bother deciding on answers to those questions.

"Alright, missy, it's time to get up…"

Nathan stirred, his limbs still tangled with hers. "Wha…?" he muttered sleepily. It couldn't have been more than six a.m.

The door of her bedroom swung open before either of them could even process what was happening. "Welcome to your wakeup call, P. Sawyer!" Brooke Davis announced proudly, throwing her arms in the air for added effect.

There was a long moment of silence as all three of them stared at one another, shocked into speechlessness. Brooke's arms fell to her sides as her jaw slowly dropped. She, of course, spoke first.

"Oh. My. _God_."

**A/N:** Last chapter's title lyric came from Matt Nathanson's _Come On Get Higher_, which most of you guessed!


	8. from so far away

**Near to You**

{_'cause near to you, I am healing, but it's taking so long_}

Chapter Eight: _but everything looks perfect from so far away_

Peyton walked into the kitchen of her home hesitantly, wrapping Nathan's sweater tightly around her body – it was warmer that way than if she were to actually zipper it up. She padded over to where Brooke stood by the counter, bare feet poking out of her pyjama bottoms as she walked quietly. "Hi," she finally said, glancing at her friend warily.

"Well, hello there," Brooke said, eyebrows perched high on her forehead as she turned to face her friend. "Where's Nathan?"

She rested both of her palms flat against the countertop of the island in the middle of the room, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet nervously. "Um…showering."

It was painfully evident how incredibly hard Brooke was working not to smirk. "Oh, a _cold_ shower?" she asked innocently, tilting her head.

"Oh, God…" Peyton murmured, burying her face in her hands momentarily. She peeked out between her fingers, realizing what a mess her hair must be. "Is this totally _crazy_?"

"It's crazy that you _didn't tell me_!" Brooke cried, throwing her hands into the air. "I mean, you call me sounding all typical broody Peyton, being all cryptic about what's going on in your life, so I think…she could probably use some company, such as her wonderful, beautiful, successful best friend. But then I show up here and you are _in bed_ with your _ex-boyfriend_, who, by the way, is also the _ex-husband_ of your second-best friend, the _father_ of said friend's child, _and_ the brother of _your_ other _ex-boyfriend_."

"When you say it like that it _does_ sound crazy…" she muttered.

"P. Sawyer, when did this _start_?"

"A few weeks ago," she replied sheepishly. "I guess it's been…a little over a month now."

"I didn't even know he was here…"

"Neither did I," she said quickly. "I had no idea, before he showed up."

"And then you thought…hey, let's start having sex again, just because?!" Brooke was getting impatient for an explanation.

"No! _No_. We're…we're trying to do things right this time, B. We're dating. We're being reasonable and logical about this."

"You and Nate? _Reasonable_ and _logical_? Peyton, your relationship was a string of one-night stands strung together by the fact that you're gorgeous and he saved you from being alone, torn apart by the fact that neither of you were ever honest with each other and neither of you could really bring yourselves to _care_."

Peyton bit down on her lower lip. "Like I said. This time, it's different."

"Are you sure?" Brooke asked hesitantly.

"Excuse me?"

"I…P. Sawyer, don't take this the wrong way…" She circled the island and touched her friend's elbow, "But are you sure you're not lonely again? I mean, you haven't been in a relationship since Lucas, and then this blast from the past shows up, looking all hot, and you…" She frowned worriedly, gently shaking Peyton's arm. "Please say something."

Peyton shook her head. Brooke didn't know about Ethan, about how many opportunities she'd had for a relationship. She didn't know that while she'd been lonely, she hadn't been unhappy, not with the attention of roughly one hundred kids on her everyday. "It's different," she said again, meeting Brooke's eyes, begging her to understand.

"Yeah, Brooke," Nathan agreed as he walked in, his hair dripping wet and a teasing grin in place, "it's _different_." He winked quickly at Peyton to assure her that he meant it, even as he mocked her gently.

Brooke's lips curved upward from her frown, blossoming into a smile. "Hey, superstar," she said warmly. "I see you're _scoring_," she added pointedly, nudging Peyton's hip with her own. Peyton rolled her eyes as Brooke bounded over to hug Nathan. "I missed ya, Nate!"

He returned her smile. "Back at you, B. Davis."

"We all thought you were MIA."

Shrugging, he told her: "Haley and Jamie know where I am."

Peyton grinned. "When Brooke says 'we', she just means herself."

Brooke shrugged as well, making a face to indicate that that was true.

Nathan chucked. "Hey, look, I'd love to make you girls breakfast –" At Peyton's raised eyebrow, he amended: "I mean, I'd love to watch Peyt make us breakfast, but I've got to get to practice."

"Look at you, Coach!" Brooke exclaimed, genuinely impressed. "Well, can you hang on a couple seconds? Peyton'll put on some clothes and we'll walk you over! Move it," she said firmly, turning back to her friend.

Peyton rolled her eyes once more, casting Brooke a warning look and receiving nothing but a completely fake innocent face in return. She gave Nathan's bicep a reassuring squeeze as she slipped out of the room.

"_So_, Nate…" she heard Brooke drawl.

{x}

"Oh my God, can I _steal_ her shoes?" Brooke was practically salivating as the three of them walked through campus, following the carefully landscaped pathways. "Those are _the_ most beautiful shoes I have ever seen. Damn, what do the parents of these kids _do_ to make enough money for those shoes?" She tugged on Peyton's sleeve, demanding an answer.

The blonde just laughed, well aware that Nathan, walking on the other side of her, was chuckling as well. "Brooke, I'm sure you can afford those shoes."

"Yeah, _now_ I can. But in high school, even I could not afford shoes like that."

She continued to laugh, wrapping an arm around her friend's waist. "You gotta let it go, B.," she told her.

"But it's not _fair_," Brooke pouted.

"As much as I'm loving this conversation…" Nathan interjected sarcastically as they came to a stop in front of the gymnasium, "This is where I leave you."

"See ya, hotshot."

"Later, Brooke. Bye, babe," he told Peyton more quietly.

"Bye," she replied, winking at him as she steered Brooke down another pathway. "So, um, you wanna go back to my place or…"

"Oh, no." Brooke wiggled about of her grasp, choosing instead to link her arm through Peyton's. "Walk and talk with me, P. Sawyer."

She groaned, but followed Brooke willingly.

"You and Nate," Brooke mused as they fell into step with one another. "I cannot believe that."

"You really think it's that crazy?"

"Aw, Peyton, I'm not trying to burst your little bubble of happiness. You two look all blissful and sweet and very, very different than you did in high school but…yeah, it is crazy. You're so far removed from the rest of us, here in this tiny little town with each other."

"I think that's what's made it so _good_, Brooke. It's just been the two of us, no distractions. I feel like I know him better now, after these few weeks, than I've ever really known him at all."

Brooke gently bumped her hip against Peyton's. "Alright, girlie. I'll try to believe you. Tell it to me. Nathan and Peyton, take two."

"Well, I was here…and then he was here…I don't know; one minute, I'm helping him unpack his stuff, the next he's rescuing me from these stupid kids who cornered me in the hallway, and then he's buying me dinner and taking me bowling and promising that he's going to be good enough for me this time, and then we're fighting and screaming and then…finally letting go and making up and…here we are."

The brunette stopped walking. "Okay, _whoa_. I'm going to need you to go all of that slower, starting with the stupid kids that cornered you." She frowned in concern before smirking slightly, dimples in place, "And then you're going to have to tell me about all that fighting…and _making up_."

Peyton sighed, glancing around hopefully for a distraction, and found one when she saw that Ethan was walking toward them. She smiled and he waved.

"Oh…" Brooke said contemplatively, brown eyes gleaming. "Now _who_ is _that_?"

"Ethan Cooper," she informed her friend. "We've been friends for a while. He's trained as a doctor; he teaches biology and premed courses."

Brooke nodded, saying approvingly, "Hot Doctor Cooper. _Nice_."

"Stop," Peyton laughed, poking her in the ribs. "Hey, E."

"Peyton," he greeted her with that gorgeous smile of his.

"This is Brooke," she introduced her friend. "Brooke, this is Ethan."

"Hey," Brooke said sweetly, extending her hand.

"Hi," Ethan replied. "Brooke Davis. With the clothes, right?"

Her whole face lit up as she turned to Peyton: "He knows who I am!"

Peyton laughed lightly. "'Cause I talk about you all the time, B. Davis."

"Whatever." She focused her attention on Ethan, smiling her coyest smile. "I hear you're a doctor, Ethan."

"Yeah," he nodded, a little taken aback but mostly amused. "I am."

"Do doctors have plans for Friday nights?"

"Not this one, I'm afraid."

Brooke lifted her chin, triumphant. "Well, you do now." She glanced over at her friend. "Peyton'll call you with the details. We'll see you at seven."

A little shell-shocked but definitely interested, Ethan replied, "I guess you will." He threw Peyton a quick smile that she returned before he turned to go.

"Bye, Doctor Cooper," Brooke said softly, wiggling her fingers in a wave as he left, her tone unmistakably flirtatious. She watched him go, wearing a pleased smile, and then turned to give Peyton an incredulous look. "You have been all buddy-buddy with _that_ for two years, and you pick _Nathan_?"

She burst out laughing, shrugging helplessly. "Yep."

"Well, your courtesy hold on the hot doctor has most _definitely _expired." She grabbed Peyton's hand and tugged her back toward her house. "C'mon, you've got to help me pick something to wear tonight."

Peyton had to run a couple steps to catch up with her, pulling her friend into a hug as they walked. Brooke returned it happily, their cheeks pressing together.

"I've missed you, B. Davis. I'm glad you're here."

"I'm glad, too." Brooke pulled back a bit to look her in the eye, her arms still linked around Peyton's waist. She smiled sincerely. "And not just because of Hot Doctor Cooper."

{x}

"Do you want to borrow something?" Brooke asked, leaning toward the mirror in Nathan's bedroom. Nathan was downstairs having one of his weekly chats with Jamie, and Ethan was due to arrive in under ten minutes so that they could all head out.

"Nah, I've got stuff," Peyton said easily. She was sitting on Nathan's bed, legs stretched out in front of her. The layout of his house was so similar to hers that she felt equally at home there, if not more, considering his house came with…well, him.

Brooke turned around, tucking her hair behind her ears. "P. Sawyer, we can not go out this way, with me looking hot and you looking…like that." She stuck her tongue out teasingly.

Peyton gave her a playfully insulted look, though Brooke was partially right. She was wearing one of Nathan's sweaters over a pair of black jeans, her hair thrown into a messy ponytail. "I'll make myself pretty, I promise." She appraised Brooke's appearance approvingly. "I don't know if I'm going to look _that_ good, though. That dress is _amazing_. One of yours?"

"Clothes over Bro's original," Brooke said with a nod. "Why wear someone else when I do it better?" she questioned rhetorically, winking as she grabbed her mascara and turned back toward the mirror.

"There's the girl I know and love," Peyton laughed. Reluctantly, she stood from her comfortable position on the bed and walked over the closet, pulling out a dress.

"Oh my God," Brooke said, meeting her eyes in the mirror. "You have _clothes_ here?"

Peyton skirted by her, heading into the en suite bathroom, "So?"

"_So_, that is so couple-y!" She shook her head as Peyton slipped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She wasn't shy to change in front of Brooke, but she wanted to avoid any eye contact during all this questioning. "I've never seen you and Nathan like this."

"Like I said!" Peyton called through the door. "It's _different_. It's good."

"You're happy, aren't you?" Brooke asked her softly, as though she was just realizing it.

"You know…I really am."

"Well, I'm happy for you, P. And I'm glad you're cheerful – it's kind of a good mood to be in when you're coaching cheerleading. Which, by the way, is crazy!"

Peyton laughed. "Yeah, I agree with that much being crazy. It's been fun, though."

"Does it feel like déjà vu? With both you and Nathan hanging out on the court so much?"

"Kind of," she admitted. "I mean…I know our history isn't exactly _great_, but…I like that it's there. We had our good moments, our good memories…and I like that those act as build-up to what we have now." She pulled the elastic out of her hair and shook out her curls, examining her reflection in the mirror. "He told me once, back in high school, that he guessed he'd always have feelings for me. And I can really sense those things now, everything between us that never totally went away." Satisfied with her appearance, she gathered up her discarded clothes and stepped out of the bathroom.

Brooke was standing in front of Nathan's dresser, looking at the picture of the couple from way back when. "Things like this, huh?" She smiled to herself. "I cannot believe he kept that." She turned around to speak directly to Peyton, but whatever she had to say died on her lips as her jaw dropped. "_Damn_, Peyton," she said emphatically, her eyes raking down her friends body; she was clearly impressed.

The blonde blushed. "You think?" Her dress was a deep green, simple and short with a scoop neck. What was making Brooke speechless, however, was the way it clung to her body, and the fact that it scooped down in the back as well – way, way down.

"Oh, yeah," Brooke gushed, grabbing her arm so that they could stand side-by-side in front of the mirror. "You are most _definitely_ hot enough to be seen with me now! You actually look like you have boobs."

"Brooke!"

"And you can _totally_ tell that you have an ass –"

"_Brooke!_"

"Okay, okay," the brunette laughed, cheeky grin in place. "Let's move, P. Sawyer." She stepped back to admire her friend one more time. "Maybe Nathan Scott really _has_ been good for you," she remarked, wiggling her eyebrows. Peyton rolled her eyes as she let Brooke grab her hand and drag her out of the room and down the stairs.

Nathan and Ethan were standing near the door, laughing about something, which she was happy to see. She really wanted them to get along.

Brooke pulled her along, announcing, "_Look_ at my best friend, is she not completely gorgeous?!"

Ethan's eyebrows rose and whistled. Peyton shot him a warning look and he grinned. "You look pretty gorgeous yourself, Brooke," he told her, politely and sincerely.

She looked satisfied as she walked over to him, "Thanks," she said with a playful smile, touching his arm.

Nathan took a couple steps forward, resting his hands on her hips, his fingers moving to touch her lower back just above where her dress began. He bent his head, and spoke into her hair, just by her ear, "You look so, so hot."

She smiled to herself, unable to contain it. She pulled back from him, placing her hands lightly on his forearms as his arms remained wrapped around her. "You look pretty hot, too," she told him gently, leaning up to kiss him. She laughed when he didn't release her. "You wanna let me go so the four of us can get out of here?"

"Not really," he admitted, arching an eyebrow. Reluctantly, he pulled his hands back and turned to talk to Ethan about whether or not they should take cars, and if so, who's car. Brooke sidled up to Peyton as the guys talked logistics.

"You know, I think I actually do believe you. About this being 'different'," she clarified, complete with air quotes, her voice low.

"And why's that?"

Brooke smirked, kinking her eyebrows. "The old Nathan Scott would've taken you right back upstairs." She nudged Peyton's hip with her own and bounced back over to Ethan.

"Let's go," Nathan said patiently, opening the door and ushering them all out. "So hot," he breathed against her ear when she brushed by him, making her giggle. She was happy, she knew; happier than she'd been in a long time. She smiled contentedly as he wrapped an arm around her waist as they followed Ethan and Brooke down the street. She wanted to make this night count.

-x-

Brooke smiled as she took a seat on one of the tall at a small table, resting her hand on Ethan's knee. "You've got moves, Hot Doctor Cooper," she said approvingly, still a little breathless from nearly an hour of non-stop dancing.

He grinned, "You can call me Ethan, you know."

"Sure. But what fun is that?" She quirked her eyebrows mischievously and turned to look at Peyton. "How're you doing, P.? Tired?"

Peyton shrugged. She was still standing, leaning back into Nathan as he wrapped his arms around her from behind. "Not yet."

Nathan bent his head, pressing a kiss to his neck. "Ethan and I'll get you guys something to drink."

She smiled at him, kissing him quickly on the lips. "Anything's fine. I trust your judgment," she grinned.

"Surprise me," Brooke told Ethan, winking.

Peyton sat down on the chair next to Brooke's, resting her feet on one of the rungs. "You two seem to be hitting him off."

"He's pretty great," Brooke sighed. "What a sweetheart. I'd love to break him out of his shell a little more."

She placed both of her hands over Brooke's, making a sad face. "When do I lose you?"

"Tomorrow," Brooke said regretfully. "I've got a flight to catch. Thanksgiving preparations and stuff. You know."

"You have _work_?"

"Well…not exactly," the brunette admitted.

"Oh God, what do you have planned?"

"Hear me out, okay? When you called me, you sounded all sad…so I thought I'd come here and…convince you to come on a trip with me."

Peyton scowled suspiciously. "A trip _where_?"

"Okay, well, see, the thing is…"

"Brooke."

She sighed heavily. "I'm lonely, Peyton. I have…so much. Success and money and clothes and guys but I'm…I'm lonely."

"I'm sorry, B."

"It's okay. I'll be okay. I just…I figured you were lonely, too. So I thought we should…go home."

"Home?" Her eyes widened. "Home, like _Tree Hill_, that home?"

"Did you grow up in some other town I don't know about?"

"Oh, Brooke…no! I'm fine," she said brightly. "I'm happy. I don't need to go."

"Yeah, but…" Brooke looked down at the table before finally meeting her eyes. "I do."

Peyton held her gaze for a moment before sighing. Brooke had flown out here, in the middle of her crazily busy schedule, because she thought Peyton needed her help. And, as her best friend, Peyton knew it was her responsibility to help Brooke when she needed it. "Tree Hill, huh?"

"Home," Brooke said gently, nodding.

"But…but Haley, and…"

"And Luke," Brooke supplied patiently.

Peyton blew out her breath and ran a hand through her curls. "That's gonna _suck_."

"Look, P. Sawyer, I know…I know you're happy here. With Nathan, and with your job. But you're also hiding. Here you can be happy because there's nothing threatening your happiness."

"Is that so wrong? Is it that bad to just…not _worry_, for once?"

"No. But you can't hide forever. Honey, you are dating Haley's ex-husband and Lucas' brother. They have to find out sometime." She smiled brightly. "And what better time than Thanksgiving!"

"Brooke…"

"I need you, Peyton."

She nodded slowly, locking eyes with Brooke and giving her friend's hand a squeeze. "And I'm with you. You know that."

Brooke's smile was soft and grateful as she looked off into the distance, to where Ethan and Nathan were approaching them, drinks in their hands. "Can you convince Hot Doctor to come?" she pouted.

"Sorry, honey," Peyton said lightly, making an apologetic face.

"It's okay. I figured."

"Here, babe," Nathan said, placing a drink in front of her and resting his hand on her bare back.

"Thanks," she said softly, smiling at him. "So…guess what?"

"What?" he asked, his eyes sparkling in the dim light. She loved the way he looked at her.

She sighed before forcing herself to smile again, glancing briefly at Brooke. If she was doing this, he was going to do it with her.

"We're going home. For Thanksgiving."

**A/N: **It's my birthday; so I treat you! Last chapter's lyric – Metro Station's _Shake It_. Guesses for this one, anyone?


	9. been away so long

**Near to You**

{_'cause near to you, I am healing, but it's taking so long_}

Chapter Ten: _been away so long I hardly knew the place_

Nathan's lips against her bare shoulder, trailing up toward her neck, woke her from a deep slumber. "Morning, beautiful."

"Mm," she purred appreciatively, rolling over and cupping his face in one of her hands as she kissed him. "G'morning, baby."

His lips brushed hers in a series of light, lazy kisses. "We've gotta get up and get ready to go."

She squeezed her eyes shut and stuck out her lower lip in a playful pout, though she was serious about the words she spoke: "I don't want to go."

"Come on," he said encouragingly, smiling gently as she squinted at him, skeptical of his enthusiasm. "It's Thanksgiving. I _know_ you'd love to be home for the holidays. And don't even try to deny that you miss it there."

"I like being here with you," she whispered, cuddling close to him. "Here, away from all our history. It's…it's safe, and it feels so good."

"It's gonna be okay."

She buried her face in his t-shirt. "Don't make me go," she pleaded, her voice muffled.

He needed to be credited for his patience. "You can choose to do whatever you want about whatever you want, and I'll support you. But in the end, I know you, and I know you're going to go. Brooke needs you and you're not going to let her do this by herself."

Peyton sighed deeply. "If she didn't need me, I definitely wouldn't be going."

"I know. But she does."

"How are you so calm?!" she cried, sitting up in bed and throwing her hands into the air. "We're going to Tree Hill. _Tree Hill_."

"I'm aware of that," he chuckled.

"Yeah, well, are you aware of who _lives_ in Tree Hill?"

"_Yes_, Peyt. My slightly crazed mother, my criminal of a father, my ex-wife, your ex-boyfriend, and my son."

She smiled weakly, admitting, "I do kinda want to see Jamie…"

Nathan grinned. "It's all going to be _fine_, babe. We go, we have fun, we come back to our lives here with each other." He cupped her chin gently in his hand, forcing her to meet his gaze as he searched her eyes. "Are you really that nervous about seeing Lucas?"

"_And_ Haley," she said emphatically, grasping his free hand in both of hers. "Nathan, do you remember how I told you that I wanted to keep _us_ just between…us? Ethan knows, and Brooke…well, caught us, but…I am so happy with this, with you and I. Bowling dates and pizza on your living room floor and waking up next to you in the morning…" She appealed to him with her eyes. "I don't want anything, or any_one,_ to ruin that, to ruin _us_."

He smiled fondly at her, tucking her curls back behind her ears. "Peyt –" he began, using a voice a bit more tender than she was accustomed to from him, but he was interrupted when Brooke knocked and opened the door without waiting for an answer.

The brunette was fully dressed and smiling brightly, happy to be heading home. "Rise and shine!" she chirped. Her eyebrows flew upward and she smiled slyly. "Well, _hello_, Mr. and Mrs. Scott," she commented as if impressed. She bounced down the hall, out of sight, calling over her shoulder, "Let's move, lovebirds! The plane takes off in three hours!"

Peyton sighed once more and bit her lower lip, peeking at her boyfriend through her eyelashes. "Do you think I'm crazy for worrying so much?"

"No. You're cute."

"_Cute_?" she questioned in protest, scrunching up her nose.

"Yes. And you want to know why?"

"Please," she said dryly, "Enlighten me."

He adjusted his position a bit, pushing the blankets aside and making sure he could look her in the eye. He clasped each of her hands in one of his and she held on tightly.

"You're cute because you're worrying about nothing. No matter where we go or who we see or what they say, we're going to be okay. I…" He took a deep breath and spoke confidently. "I love you, Peyton. And nothing, no one, is going to change that."

She stared at him breathlessly for a moment, surprised by her own reaction to his words, the sudden vulnerability and joy she felt. "You've never said that to me before," she whispered.

Nathan released her hands, kissing her forehead and wrapping her up in his arms. "I know. I know it's a big deal. But I do, I love you. You've talked about how happy I've made you, and you've done the same for me. I love you for that. I love that you, of all people, coach cheerleading, and I love that dress you wore last night and I love that you don't point out all the stupid things I do. You're beautiful and a great teacher and the best girlfriend, and I should've known that all along. I love you."

Peyton didn't reply at first, simply leaned in and kissed him softly, closing her eyes and melting into him. "I love you, too," she murmured earnestly, knowing in that moment that it was true. "Stupid things that you do and all."

He cracked a teasing grin. "If, when we get home, you still want to keep our relationship on the down low…then that's okay, I'm fine with that."

Giggling, she demanded, "_Down low_?"

"Shut up," he sighed good-naturedly.

"You'd do that for me?" she asked quietly.

"Anything," he said simply. The alarm clock went off, its annoying, incessant beeping filling the room. He turned to shut it off, sliding his legs over the side of the bed and throwing off the blankets. He pressed the 'off' button and turned to look at her over his shoulder, winking as he teased, "_Mrs. Scott_."

{x}

She tapped her foot impatiently against the tiled floor of the airport. "Shouldn't we be boarding by now? Maybe the flight's cancelled. What time is it?"

"Thirty seconds since the last time you asked, honey," Brooke replied lazily without looking up from her magazine. She sighed and lifted her gaze to meet Peyton's eyes. She looked sympathetic as she glanced back and forth between Nathan and Peyton. "Am I totally torturing you guys with this trip?"

"No," Peyton rushed to assure her, not wanting her best friend to feel guilty for needing her. "Of course not. We're fine. This is going to be…great."

Nathan wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. "That's my girl," he whispered, proud and amused all at once. "You _almost_ sounded convincing."

She elbowed him lightly.

A voice filtered through the airport, announcing that their flight was boarding. Brooke hopped up to go, but Peyton moved slowly, gathering her things at a snail's pace and pausing to check to make sure she had her cell phone.

"Come _on_, P. Sawyer,' Brooke whined, hurrying off toward their gate, anxious to get home.

She felt Nathan's hand close around hers. Shooting him an apologetic smile, she sighed, "Sorry if I'm freaking out about this."

He simply shrugged, unconcerned, flashing her his very best grin. "Just another thing for me to love about you."

Kissing him gently, she sighed again, resting her forehead against his. She opened her eyes and smiled. "We're gonna be okay," she said firmly, and she meant every word.

He pulled her close as they walked quickly to catch up with Brooke, growling against her ear, "You know, I've always wanted to join the mile high club…"

She laughed and blushed, shaking her head in amusement and biting her lip as she pretended to consider the likelihood of his gaining a membership today. Of course he had.

{x}

"I _hate_ economy class," Brooke huffed as she shifted in her seat, trying to get comfortable as she stretched out her legs.

"Don't be a snob," Peyton told her lightly. "This is fine. At least we're all sitting together."

"You get _cookies_ in first class," the brunette told her, pouting.

Nathan, sitting in the aisle seat of their group of three, rolled his eyes and laughed. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom. I'll see if I can snag you some cookies from some unsuspecting person's tray, Brooke," he added teasingly, kissing Peyton's knuckles before he released the hand he'd been holding.

"_Thank_ you," Brooke said, narrowing her eyes at him, nonverbally scolding him for mocking her. The moment he was out of earshot, she let her magazine fall closed and said, "So, you two looked really cozy this morning."

"We've been over this. We're dating."

"Sleeping together."

"Well…yeah." Peyton furrowed her eyebrows. "Okay, not to imply anything bad, but since when have you _disproved_ of sex?"

Brooke rolled her eyes. "You're not just 'sleeping together'," she sighed, making lazy air quotes. "You're practically living together. You've got stuff at his house, he's got 'his' side on your bed…"

"Are you going to tell me you think it's crazy? Because, like I said, we've already had this conversation."

"No. No, Peyton, I'm not trying to make you second guess anything, I just…I don't know. I guess when I walked in on you guys this morning, I realized that…this could actually be a permanent thing. I mean…" She looked hesitant. "You could make things, like, really _permanent_, someda_y_."

Peyton cringed at the word she chose and Brooke winced apologetically.

"Sorry. But…you know what I mean." She studied her friend. "Does that scare you?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it should but…for now, it's serious, but it's still fun, and I'm really happy, Brooke. And I think that's what really matters."

"Yeah. You're right."

"Um, but while we're on the topic…"

"Yeah?" Brooke asked eagerly, eyes gleaming as she sensed the possibility of impending gossip.

Peyton rolled her eyes, smiling affectionately. "I, um…well, _we_ were wondering…if you could keep this to yourself?"

"What…you and Nathan?" she asked, eyes wide. "You want to keep it a secret?"

"Just for now," Peyton stressed pleadingly.

Brooke shrugged. "Your relationship, your choices. I'll do whatever you two want – it's not my information to tell."

"Thanks," she said with a relieved sigh.

The brunette bit her lip. "Are you sure about this, P. Sawyer? I mean…you know Tree Hill. Nothing that's secret stays secret for long."

"Well, if you keep your mouth shut, it will," she retorted.

"Meow," Brooke commented, raising her eyes and making claws with one of her hands.

"Sorry," Peyton sighed. "I just…"

Broke waved her apology away. "I know, hon. Consider it forgotten." She winked and reopened her magazine as Nathan walked down the tiny aisle and rejoined them.

He slipped into his seat and leaned in to speak close to her ear. "I thought you were going to come find me."

"I was talking to Brooke," she whispered back defensively. When he raised his eyebrows, she sighed and confessed, "Okay, I'm sorry, I chickened out. I guess you're just going to have to join the mile high club all by yourself." She shrugged blithely, taking pleasure in tormenting him.

"I kinda just did," he told her huskily, and he jaw dropped.

She slapped his chest with the back of his hand and hissed, "_Nathan!"_

He shrugged as well, grinning cheekily. "You're just going to make sure that doesn't happen again on the way back, aren't you?"

"I don't think so, bud," she said firmly, pulling away from him.

But he grabbed her hand before she could move too far, clasping it in his own and holding it against his chest, over his heart, and whispering in her ear until her cheeks turned pink and she wouldn't have been able to say no if he asked again. She looked downward, giggling to herself as Brooke muttered to herself about how irritating their flirtation was, and she forgot everything she'd been worrying about.

{x}

Her anxiety set in again the moment they touched down in Tree Hill.

"Breathe," Nathan reminded her as Brooke led the way through their hometown airport.

She shot him a quick smile and reached for his hand. "I can't believe we're back…" she murmured as she sighed. "It is kind of good to be home." Her smile widened. "I bet you can't wait to see Jamie."

He grinned back at her. "Yeah, I really can't."

"Then we'll go there first," she said decisively. "You shouldn't have to wait, not now that you're here."

His eyebrows flew up. "You want to go to _Haley's_ house _first_? You'd do that for me?"

"Anything," she shrugged, smiling softly, repeating his sentiment from hours ago. "Besides, I know it's hard for you, too. And I know how much you want to see him. And I know…what it's like to miss your dad."

He kissed her forehead in a silent show of acknowledgment and sorrow over that fact along with gratitude that she was willing to make sacrifices for him. "You're pretty perfect, you know that?"

She burst out laughing. "Far from it," she corrected him, "but I do want you to be happy."

"Nathan!" Brooke called from the revolving belt of luggage. "I see my bag!"

He chuckled, grinning at his girlfriend. "Duty calls."

Peyton laughed, releasing his hand and watching him appreciatively as he walked over to assist her best friend. It was strange, being back in Tree Hill with Nathan and Brooke. They were her oldest friends from the place she'd grown up – there had been a simpler time when it had just been the three of them, and it gave her faith that things would work out now. She and Nathan had found their happiness elsewhere. It only seemed appropriate that they'd travel back home with Brooke so that she could find hers.

{x}

"Hey!" Peyton called, a wide smile on her lips as she let herself into the house that had once been Nathan and Haley's, but now belonged solely to his ex-wife. Even though she had her reservations over what Haley would think or say or feel once she learned of Peyton's relationship with her ex-husband, and even though she couldn't help but worry about how Nathan would react to the sight of the woman he'd once promised forever to, she was happy to be here, about to see one of her oldest friends. The conflicting emotions didn't even surprise her – considering the varied relationships in their small circle of friends, she was almost accustomed to it.

She dropped her purse and kicked off her shoes near the door continued, "Does Haley James, best musician in the world, live here? 'Cause if she does, she better get her butt down here _right now_!"

Brooke slipped her feet out of her heels, following Peyton further into the house. "Tutor Mom!" she called toward the stairs.

Haley emerged down the staircase, her face lighting up the moment she saw them both. "What're you _doing here_!?" she squealed excitedly, rushing down the rest of the stares and over to them, engulfing each of them in a super-tight hug. When she pulled back, her eyes were gleaming with unshed tears.

"Hales," Peyton said softly, touching her friend's cheek. If Haley started crying, Brooke undoubtedly would as well, and she wouldn't be far behind.

"God, I'm sorry, it's just _so good_ to see you both!" she gushed, and the three girls found themselves tangled up in another group hug.

"Who is it?" Jamie's voice asked. He came into view only moments later, and his face lit up just like his mother's had, making both of his aunts grin.

"Hey, baby James," Peyton called, waving.

"Get over here and hug me, Jamie Scott!" Brooke contributed.

His attention, however, was focused behind them. His jaw dropped and the hugest smile bloomed on his face as he cried, "_Daddy!_" He practically flew down the stairs, running past Haley and in between Brooke and Peyton to launch himself into Nathan's arms.

"Hey!" Nathan said enthusiastically, wearing a smile filled with an equal amount of joy as he pulled his seven-year-old son into his arms. "Look at you!"

"I grew!" Jamie declared proudly as Nathan set him back down. "Didn't I, Mom?"

Haley lips twitched up into the briefest of smiles as she regarded her ex-husband. Peyton's eyes darted between them as her heart fluttered nervously.

"Hi, Nathan," Haley said softly, clearly shocked by his presence there.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Hey."

"Tell Dad how much I grew!" Jamie demanded impatiently, looking at him mother imploringly.

Her smile widened the moment she looked at her son. "A _ton_," she said dramatically, teasing him.

"I'm going to be a good basketball player, right?" Jamie asked Nathan eagerly, his eyes shining. It made Peyton's heart ache as she thought about how much it hurt father and son to be separated from each other for such long periods of time.

"You're gonna be the best," Nathan told him earnestly. "Why don't you go outside and warm up, then we'll play a game and see what you've got, okay?"

"Awesome!" Jamie cheered. "Hi, Aunt Brooke, Aunt Peyton," he added over his shoulder as he rushed outside.

"Hi and bye, kid," Peyton called after him fondly, a laugh in her throat. "He missed you," she said softly to Nathan.

He smiled softly in return, wordlessly thanking her for understanding just how much the distance hurt him.

Brooke coughed in a way that was clearly fake and forced, reminding Nathan and Peyton that they weren't alone. Haley gave her an odd look and smiled purposefully. "Um, so…all of you are here!"

"Um…yeah," Peyton shrugged. "Brooke wanted to come home for Thanksgiving, and I wanted to be with her and, it, um…it turns out that Nathan's teaching…at the same school I do. So…we convinced him to come, too."

"You don't need to worry about us crashing," Brooke added, taking some of the attention away from Peyton's awkward little speech. "Nathan's got his beach house with all those empty rooms."

"Right," Haley nodded. "But you know, you two can stay here, if you want. I've got room, and I've missed you!"

"I would love to!" Brooke jumped at the opportunity. "But then…Peyton should probably stay with Nathan, just to be fair. He shouldn't have to be alone, not during the holidays." She turned to her friends. "That's okay, right?" she asked, batting her eyelashes innocently. "It won't be weird or anything?"

Peyton glared at her. "No," she replied through gritted teeth, green eyes flashing. "Why would it be weird?" Though she was mad at her friend for goading her, she had to admit that Brooke had smoothly arranged for them to have some space for themselves.

"Great!" Brooke clapped her hands together in approval. "So it's settled." She beamed at Haley. "You look great, the house looks great…and Jamie…he seems perfect."

"He is," Haley sighed with a proud smile.

"He's growing so fast," Peyton contributed, feeling the pain of this fact on Nathan's behalf.

"He really is," her boyfriend agreed, his eyes focused on Haley as he tried to smile. "Too old to call us Momma and Daddy now, huh?"

"Too cool," Haley agreed with a sad, forced smile of her own.

Peyton felt her heart seize up when their eyes remained locked in silent communication, a wordless conversation that could have been solely parental or could have been something more. She repeatedly reminded herself not to be jealous. They were going to be fine. He'd said so and she'd said so and that's what was going to happen.

Brooke, sensing Peyton's discomfort with the intimacy of the moment, opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted when a girl Peyton didn't recognize came rushing into the house. A quick glance at Brooke confirmed that her best friend was baffled by this strange person's appearance as well; Nathan appeared equally confused as he subtly shrugged at her.

She was about their age, with hair somewhere between the realms of brown and blonde, pretty eyes, cute outfit. She looked a little frantic and was teary-eyed but somehow appeared happy even through all of that. "Haley!" she called joyously.

Smiling in gentle confusion, Haley said, "Lindsey, hey, what's…"

"Sorry, we didn't realize you had company…" she trailed off, suddenly realizing that there was a roomful of people staring at her. Her eyes drifted over to Nathan, seeming to recognize him as Haley's ex, before her gaze settled on Brooke. She also seemed to recognize the brunette, probably due to Brooke's exceptional success. Peyton expected this person, whose name she didn't even know, to glance over her without a second thought, but instead the girl's eyes widened and she seemed to stop breathing momentarily. She stared at Peyton for a long, stunned moment, and Peyton caught Haley's quiet gasp of realization.

Peyton turned to her old friend, hoping for an explanation, but she's was cut off by a voice she recognized all too well, happiness evident in its intonation: "Guess who's engaged?!"

She wasn't sure how she managed to connect all the dots to quickly in her baffled brain, but less than a second later her eyes fell on the new girl's left hand, and she saw a ring so familiar that her heart slammed to a halt against her ribs.

She was unaware of everything going on around her. Brooke, Nathan, Haley, and the new girl she had no name for swam out of focus in every way as she caught her breath. She looked up, desperate to fill her lungs and find something to focus on, and found herself face to face with the boy she'd once loved so very much, with the man whose proposal she'd said _someday_ to, with the author whose work had haunted her for years.

_Luke_. She wasn't sure if she said it or if she just thought it, but either way, the anguish was easily readable in every bit of her body language, and she saw all the shock and regret and torment in the way he looked back at her. She stumbled backward a bit but didn't tear her eyes away from him.

He was engaged. He was engaged to this other girl and he'd given away the ring that Peyton had always thought was meant to be hers.

If she'd been able to see or hear or think anything other than him and his name and his ring and this girl that was not her, if she'd been able to turn around and meet her boyfriend's eyes, she would have seen the anxiety and the barely disguised hurt on Nathan's face.

She would have known that he was wondering whether or not they were going to be okay after all.

**A/N:** No one got last chapter's song! The line was from The Postal Service's _Such Great Heights_. Iron & Wine did a cover. Guesses for this chapter's song? Thoughts on the content? Review!


	10. forever and always

**Near to You**

{_'cause near to you, I am healing, but it's taking so long_}

Chapter Ten: _'cause I was there when you said "forever and always"_

"P-Peyton," Lucas spluttered. "Hi," he added more quietly.

Brooke's lips were set in a straight line as she waved at him, arching one of her eyebrows. "Nathan and I are here too," she remarked dryly.

He blinked, looking a little stunned. "Right; hi, hey." He threw a nervous smile in Nathan's direction; his brother's face was stony. Lindsey watched everyone nervously, Haley watched everyone helplessly.

"You're getting married," Peyton whispered, the words falling from her lips without the consent of her mind. "You're getting married," she repeated, shaking her head in disbelief.

He didn't have anything to say to that, which was almost okay. She wasn't sure if she'd want to hear anything he could have come up with to say to her.

"We've been dating for a year," Lindsey supplied hesitantly. "Luke proposed last night…"

Peyton turned solely to glare at this other woman. She felt Brooke's hand land on her shoulder, a silent attempt to comfort her.

"Congratulations," Haley whispered with the ghost of a smile, eyeing Peyton warily.

Lindsey flashed a quick, grateful grin.

Peyton could feel the pressure of everyone's eyes on her, but she kept her focus on her ex-boyfriend, her almost-fiancé. His face was carefully neutral, but she found confrontation in his eyes, greatly overshadowing any love leftover from their romance, which never got the conclusion it deserved.

Her anger built up quickly. "Don't _look_ at me like that!" she seethed. "How dare you?!"

"It's been six years, Peyt," he said mutedly, concealing his anxiety with a casual shrug.

"_Don't_," she insisted, grimacing at the familiar way he shortened her name. "Lucas, I said _someday_! You're an author, you know the difference between that word and _no_. Did you honestly think that that was the _end_? That I'd think we were over for good, that I wouldn't think we'd find our way back to each other?" She stopped short, embarrassed by her emotional outburst and realizing that she'd said too much. She'd been waiting six years to yell at him; everything that she'd never had a chance to say just came pouring out of her. She buried her face in her hands, hiding from everyone.

"Honey," Brooke said softly, touching her arm again.

She looked up and saw sympathy on Haley and Brooke's faces, embarrassed shock on Lucas', and surprised uncertainty on Lindsey's.

And Nathan. _Nathan_. She could tell that he was hurting on her behalf, but the pain on his face was mostly his own, pain as he realized that she was not, in fact, over Lucas. She suddenly felt like she'd betrayed him, and her eyes stung with tears.

"I have to get out of here," she muttered, and ran for the door.

{x}

Brooke gave her about half an hour to calm down before she came looking for her. Peyton sighed as she spotted the brunette approaching and quickly wiped her eyes.

Brooke sat down next to her, getting comfortable on the concrete ledge. She let the silence settle around them momentarily before she spoke: "Thought I might find you here."

Peyton sniffled. "Yeah, I…I didn't know where else to go."

"Can you talk to me? About this?" She paused. "Please?"

"I don't mean to be such a drama queen."

"Peyton," Brooke said softly, "you're not. Considering everything…you've been hurt, it's been hard, and he needs to respect that. God knows I've been down that road with Lucas Scott…"

She met her best friend's eyes, barely registering what Brooke was saying. "But _Nathan_…"

"Yeah," Brooke whispered. "But Nathan."

"I told him I love him. This morning, I told him that I love him."

"Wha…wow," Brooke murmured. "You and Nathan? In love?"

Peyton laughed dryly; it sounded more like a sob. "Glad to hear you sound so supportive."

"C'mon, honey, you know what I mean." Brooke placed a hand on her knee, hesitating before she asked, "Did you mean it?"

She sighed deeply. "Yeah, I did. Of course I did. I wouldn't have said it otherwise. But I didn't…I didn't expect all of this, and things with Lucas are just so…"

"Maybe you need this, you know? You and Lucas both. Maybe you can get some real closure."

"But I thought I _had_ it!" Peyton cried, frustrated with herself. "It's been so long, I got that stupid book banned from the school, I'm with Nathan and I'm happy…" Her vision was suddenly blurred by tears. She'd known this trip was a mistake. "He gave her that ring," she said brokenly.

"You mean _your_ ring?" Brooke asked knowingly, her voice gentle.

Peyton looked at her guiltily, unable to answer.

"I'm going to ask you something, okay?" When the blonde nodded, she continued, "If Lucas wasn't engaged, if he didn't have someone else, if there was the possibility for the two of you…would you still be with Nathan?"

Her tears spilled over onto her cheeks. "I really want to say yes," she whispered.

Brooke nodded slowly, understanding the thoughts Peyton hadn't voiced. "Okay," she said softly, reaching over and grasping her best friend's hand.

They sat there together, holding hands, under the bridge, just like they used to when they were young.

She wished things were still as simple as they'd been back then. Her grief had been so easily defined; now she was torn and sad and afraid.

So much for happy holidays.

{x}

When Brooke convinced her to go back to Haley's place, Peyton had to admit that she was entirely unprepared for the sight that greeted them. Lucas and Lindsey were long gone, probably sorting their own issues out, and the house was strangely silent. She and Brooke ventured through the house and out the back door, where they found Jamie shooting hoops…and Nathan and Haley sitting close together on the steps, speaking softly. They looked very _together_, much like the family they'd once been.

Peyton's eyes ached from the build-up of tears; her throat felt tight. "Hey," she said loudly, her voice raw.

Startled, they both turned abruptly. Nathan hurriedly got to his feet as Haley smiled sympathetically.

"I should've told you," she said. "I'm so sorry."

Peyton attempted to return her smile. "It's…okay. I mean, I haven't been very good about keeping in touch. Besides, it…it shouldn't bother me."

"But it does," Nathan said bluntly, aware that it was the truth. "It bothers you."

She locked eyes with him and held his gaze, hoping that he'd see how much she hated to hurt him. He turned away from her, extending his hands to help Haley up, and her eyes hardened as, in that moment, he hurt her right back.

Brooke, who'd been uncharacteristically quiet, chose that moment to intervene. "Why don't we all…get settled? I'll unpack, and Nathan and Peyton can go make themselves comfortable at the beach house. Maybe you should take a nap or something, P. Sawyer."

"M'fine," she muttered, embarrassed and distracted, her focus on her boyfriend's face.

There was the slightest hint of disappointment in Haley's voice as she said, "Sure…that sounds good." She smiled hopefully at Nathan. "Why don't the two of you head back here around dinner time?"

He nodded slowly and returned her smile. "Sounds like a plan."

"Okay, _bye_," Brooke chirped pointedly, hurrying them off, aware of how badly they needed to have a conversation.

"You ready, Peyton?" he asked, sounding formal and detached as he finally looked at her.

He so rarely said her full first name these days – it was mostly _Sawyer_ or _Peyt_ or _babe_ – that she found it jarring. She had to clear her throat before she could speak. "Yeah. Let's go."

Perfectly polite, he gestured for her to step through the door before he did, calling goodbyes over his shoulder. His hand hovered in the air above the small of her back, but never once did he touch her.

{x}

She sighed heavily, dropping her bag on the floor in the foyer of the Scott beach house as Nathan closed the door behind him. They'd driven over in total silence, and she still couldn't think of anything to say.

Meeting his eyes hesitantly, she was relieved not to see any hostility, but instead a mixture of worry and hurt. That did her in; she couldn't hold back any longer. She closed the distance between them and hugged him, nestling into his body, holding tightly to him. It took a moment, but soon enough he hugged her back, wrapping her up in his arms and pulling her closer still. She squeezed her eyes closed and pressed her lips together, unsure of why she now felt a stronger need to cry.

"What is this?" he whispered into her hair, his voice strangled. "You want me to save you from your saviour now?"

Her eyes flew open and she wrenched herself out of his arms. "You're not being fair," she whispered, wounded.

"_I'm_ not being fair?! You're talking and acting like you're still in love with him!"

"Are you and Haley really any different?" She stopped short, shaking her head. "I don't want to fight with you right now. I _can't_…" Her voice broke, "I can't fight with you right now."

He gave her a long, hard look before calming down, slowly blowing out his breath. "Okay," he sighed. He reached for her hand. "C'mere, let's sit down. We'll talk." He pulled her gently toward the living room; she grabbed an afghan off the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders, settling on the rug as he took a few minutes to light a fire. When the flames were growing steadily, slowly heating up the room and the house, Nathan sat down next to her, satisfied with his work. She extended the blanket toward him would be warmer as well.

"Look…Haley was my wife, he have a son. Our marriage fell apart and it was pretty disastrous. I'm not going to tell you that there isn't lingering…_stuff_ there, because there is. But we're over. We're over and I am _with you_, Peyt. I need you to be with me, too."

"I know," she murmured.

"And _I_ know. I know that you loved him and that he meant pretty much everything to you. And I think it was a really jackass move for him to leave you alone in that hotel room, for him to break your heart like that. It sucked."

"But it was six years ago," she said softly.

"Yeah. And we're different now, all of us are. I mean, I'm a coach and I'm a _dad_ and I feel…like I've come a long way these past yers."

"You _have_," she asserted. "I'm so proud of you, you know that."

He smiled his thanks. "I guess I just thought…that you'd come a long way, too. I've been proud of you, too, of what I've seen from you lately."

"Six years," she whispered with a bitter laugh. "You've had your life fall apart but you've built it back up, you have a seven-year-old son, and I'm still upset about something I had six years ago. God, I'm pathetic."

"No, you're not, it's just…"

"Just that I'm pathetic?" she guessed, cracking a small grin.

He shook his head. "It was…it was high school, babe. I know how…how you felt about him, but look at how things have changed – like you said, even how _I_'_ve_ changed. Compared to who I was then, you _we_ were in high school, together…it feels like another lifetime ago. Doesn't it?"

Smiling reassuringly, she said, "Yeah," because most of the time it did.

Encouraged, he went on, "I mean, it almost seems insignificant now. Forgettable."

She rolled her eyes. "You idiot," she said fondly, "your _child_ was born when we were in high school. I think it'd be good if you remembered that much."

"I guess," he sighed playfully.

Peyton laughed nostalgically. "And I like it, with you, knowing who we once were. I mean, look at where we are right now." She pressed her hand against the carpet beneath them and softly added, "I lost my virginity here."

Nathan inched close to her so that their sides were pressed together; he turned his head, kissing her cheek lightly before he said: "Yeah, _about_ that…"

She smirked, cupping his chin in her hand and kissing him firmly, snuggling into his arm. "I guess I just wish sometimes that we could have stayed like that forever, the way things were in the beginning. Or I wish we just could have stayed away from this town. It was so simple and safe and…"

She felt his chest heave as he sighed. "I can't be Lucas for you," he said frankly, his voice full of vulnerability. "I love you and of course I want to protect you when I think you need it, but you and I, we're different than that…and I _like_ how we are, Peyt."

"I know," she murmured guiltily, kissing his shoulder.

"You can't expect me to give you the things he would have, to treat you the way he would have."

Swallowing hard, she replied, "And you can't…you can't think I'm going to be perfect. I'm kind of a mess, I have all this emotional baggage leftover from even when I was just a kid and I can't…I can't be like Haley was."

"I know," he told her.

She knew that this wasn't the end. He was still hurt and her head was still spinning and they had to stay here with the two people who'd broken their hearts and try their very hardest to act normal. The easy, flirty banter had been buried beneath all this sudden angst and heartache. But she thought they'd be alright. They'd figure out how to work it all out, and they'd remember how good it had been for the past couple months, and they'd work it all out, they'd get back to how they'd been.

Having assured herself that they'd be okay, she stopped thinking for a while and just stared into the fire until her eyes fluttered closed.

"I _am_ with _you_," she promised in a sleepy whisper.

{x}

Haley laughed at her own attempt to reach a measuring cup on the very top shelf. The shortest member of their group of friends sighed and asked, "Nathan, can you give me a hand over here?"

"Sure," he said, walking over to her and looking upward as she pointed toward what he needed. He reached up to grab it, resting his hand briefly on her back to provide balance, and Peyton frowned as they laughed quietly together at something Haley'd said.

She been assigned the task of hulling strawberries, and as she watched them, her methods grew so aggressive that she soon found that she had strawberry juice all over her hands. She grabbed a nearby towel to wipe them off and forced herself to take a deep breath. It didn't mean anything. If there was an item out of reach, it made perfect, logical sense to ask for assistance from the basketball player in the room.

Surveying the room as she continued her task, she saw that Lindsey was pulling something out of the oven. She'd been very quiet since she had returned with Lucas, speaking rarely, and when she did, only to Haley or Luke. Brooke was sitting at the kitchen table, giggling quietly with Jamie. He was the only person in the room who looked remotely comfortable with the situation. He called something to his father and Nathan grinned before he replied, shooting Haley a private smile when Jamie responded enthusiastically.

A hand landed softly on Peyton's back and she jumped in her seat, swiveling around as her heart pounded in her chest. Lucas was standing next to her, nervously pulling his hand back. "Hi," he said, his voice hoarse.

"Hi," she whispered, looking down at her strawberries.

His eyes scanned over the kitchen's other occupants before they locked with hers. "Can we talk?"

"Luke, I –"

"Please?" His blue eyes were wide and hopeful. She couldn't say no. Sighing, she wiped her hands again and gestured for him to lead the way out of the kitchen.

Once they were in the kitchen, she crossed her arms over her chest and faced him. "Okay. Talk."

"Will you please sit first?" He looked vaguely amused by her as he sat on the couch and waited for her to join him.

Heaving a sigh, she sat down as far away from him as she could get and repeated, "Talk."

"I guess I…I just wanted to say that I'm sorry."

"For what?"

He hung his head, and her heart went out to him even though she wished that it hadn't. "I guess I deserve that…" he murmured. "I'm sorry for…all sorts of things."

Her heart seized up and she clenched her fists, waiting for him to continue.

"I should have…kept in touch with you. You shouldn't have had to find out about me and Lindsey, or about our engagement like that. It was totally unfair to you. And maybe I…I should've changed the ending of my book." He ground his teeth together momentarily, nervously rubbing the back of his neck before looking her directly in the eye. "I shouldn't have left you there that night. I should've have listened to you, I should have given you a chance…and if I'd still decided to go, I should have waited until you were awake. I was hurt and I…I just left. I didn't…I didn't _mean_ it, Peyton," he said emphatically, desperate for her to understand. "And sometimes I still wish I'd…"

She gaped at him, eyes wide. He couldn't be saying these things to her. A part of her was thankful, because she'd really needed those apologies, but a bigger part of her was horrified, because she wanted to touch him, to hug him or kiss him, to take it all back, to be his again, because she'd spent a lot of time wishing.

"Thank you," she managed to choke out, and then she burst into tears.

"Peyton…" He said softly, surprised by her sudden breakdown. Unable to resist comforting her, he reached out, his hand gently touching her shoulder. She knew that if she gave in he'd inevitably pull her into a hug, so she batted his hand away, hunching over her lap as she buried her face in her hands. "Peyton," he repeated worriedly, his hand brushing against her knee, and she jumped up, only to run directly into Nathan.

She didn't care what Lucas thought in that moment, or what conclusions he drew from her actions. She didn't step away from Nathan; instead she rested her forehead against his chest, clutching the material of shirt in one of his fists. His hands fell lightly onto her back in a hesitant hug.

"What the hell, man?" she heard him demand, his grip on her tightening the slightest amount.

"I was just apologizing…" Lucas replied, baffled by her reaction. "I didn't mean to –"

"Everything's ready!" Brooke's voice sang out. She paused before asking quietly, "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Nathan said decisively, pulling Peyton a little bit closer. "She's fine. Everything's fine. I'm just going to…tell Haley we'll be there in a second, okay?" He bent his head, speaking close to her ear. "Come on, Peyt, this way…"

She let him lead her into the ground floor bedroom of the house, closing the door behind them. He steered her to the bed, sitting her down. "What's wrong? What did he say?"

She sniffled, swallowing back her tears and hastily wiping her eyes. "I'm fine. I'm sorry."

"You're _not_ fine. What did he say?" Nathan demanded.

Shrugging, she confirmed Lucas' report: "He apologized."

"He apologized," Nathan repeated skeptically.

Faintly, she said, "Yeah."

"But isn't that a good thing? Isn't that what you wanted, what you need from him? Closure?"

"Sure."

Nathan was silent for a long time, and when she looked up at him, she was met with a smile of utter disbelief. "He apologized…" he said slowly, "and now you want him _back_."

"_Nate_…" she appealed sadly, shaking her head.

"It's true! This is _insane_."

Getting defensive, she stood up, planting her hands on her hips. "Yeah, I'm sure it's really painful. It's not like you've been busy with Haley or anything."

"Bullshit."

"I know what I see!"

Groaning, he ran a hand through his short hair. "Okay, fine, so maybe I was…trying to get back at you a little bit."

"Really mature," she scoffed angrily.

"At least I'm not a liar!"

"What's _that _supposed to mean?" she demanded hotly.

"You know what it means!"

"I _don't_!" she exclaimed, her voice rising. "Or I wouldn't have _asked_."

"Don't talk down to me," he growled.

"Don't say stupid things," she snapped back.

"Don't be a bitch!"

Tears stung her eyes. "Don't be such a jerk! God!" She threw her hands in the air. "We're fighting again. Why does that not surprise me?" she asked pointedly.

"Oh, right, this _again. _Fighting and sex, that's all we've ever done!" he said, his voice rising an octave as he mimicked her.

"I do not _talk_ like that." She wasn't sure why she felt the need to point out that particular fact, but she did. He infuriated her so much at times.

He stormed over to her, closing the gap between them in three easy steps, getting in her face. She pulled back a little but he placed his hands on her hips, keeping her still. She couldn't catch her breath as his eyes locked with hers; her cheeks were hot.

"Okay, let's just do this, then. We'll cut out the fighting and just have sex. You clearly didn't mean it when you said you loved me –"

"I did!" she said forcefully. His lips were so close to hers and there was so much tension between them that somehow, the next reasonable step seemed to be to kiss him. So she did.

It was the most heated kiss she'd ever experienced; nothing gentle about it, battling tongues and wandering hands. His fingers dug into her hips and she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and stood on her toes, pushing her body even closer to his. One of his hands snaked in between them and undid the first few buttons on her shirt. She was dizzy by the time they pulled apart for oxygen.

He nodded slowly, gasping for air. "Fighting and sex," he shrugged bitterly.

"Nate, no –"

"It was stupid for me to say that I loved you, to make you think that you had to say it back."

"I didn't have to," she said softly, her hands moving to cup his face. "I _wanted_ to."

He shook her off, taking a step back. "Even if you can't see it, I can. And it's not fair for you to just fuck me while you're waiting around for Lucas."

"_Nathan!_" she cried breathlessly, her jaw dropping. He was so much more than that, he was everything but that. Her chest felt tight as she sucked in some air, preparing herself to rebuke his comments, but she didn't have the chance.

Both of them were distracted in that moment by the stunned whisper of _"What?!"_ that came from the doorway. They whirled around, completely guilty expressions on their faces, to find the smile on Haley's lips turning quickly into a frown.


End file.
